


A Choice of a Lifetime

by Shivver



Series: The Actor, AU #2 [1]
Category: British Actor RPF, Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), Doctor Who RPF
Genre: Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-09 01:33:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4328667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shivver/pseuds/Shivver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which David is about to do what he must, but is interrupted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first story in the second AU I've created for my story _The Actor_. The first AU consisted of only one story ("One More Day"), but this one spans several stories of varying lengths.
> 
> This is an alternate ending for _The Actor_ and takes things in a completely different direction.
> 
> This first story begins at the final paragraph of _The Actor_ and goes from there. It's a bit long and gets weighted down in the middle, but it gets better, and if you can make it through chapter four (of seven), I think you'll find the ending rather fun.
> 
> Spoiler Warning: If you have not read _The Actor_ , don't read this. It won't make sense, and it'll spoil _The Actor_ , which is by far the better part of the whole storyline.

David held the watch in the palm of his hand and lightly traced the symbols on the cover with a trembling finger. Swallowing nervously, he inhaled deep into his chest and let his breath issue slowly from his mouth. He hesitated for one more moment, then set his jaw as his thumb brushed the device's latch. The next moment, the wail of the time rotor crescendoed to fill his ears and the glass floor beneath him bucked. As he was thrown off his feet, the watch popped out of his hand and he crashed to the ground, the device skittering across the floor and clattering down the stairs.

Amy's startled shriek told him that the others were just as surprised as he was by the sudden movement of the TARDIS. He grabbed at the nearby bannister to haul himself up, but the tremors of the ship were so violent, it was all he could do to cling to the railing to keep from tumbling around the console chamber. He had already lost sight of the watch, but he could hear it clanging about below.

As Rory struggled to pin his fiance against the jumpseats to keep her secure, the Doctor shouted his confusion at the TARDIS and launched himself at the console. He grabbed the first thing that his hand met, which turned out to be the free-swinging monitor, and the Time Lord careened around the platform like a chair on a carnival ride. On his second attempt, he managed to latch onto a toggle handle, giving him enough stability to start flipping levers and twisting dials, all the while yelling what David suspected might be Gallifreyan epithets. Though it looked like the Doctor was activating controls at random, the violent shaking began to abate enough that David could find purchase with his feet. With his arms still wrapped around the railing, he leaned over it to peer down toward where he last heard the watch bounce. Whatever might have happened to the TARDIS, the most important thing was to retrieve the chameleon arch and keep it safe.

"All right! Calm down, old girl!" Though the ship was still shuddering, the Doctor planted himself in front of the monitor and studied the screen whilst his hands danced about the hodge-podge of controls, tuning this, adjusting that, and batting at that one lever that never seemed to do anything. "What's the matter this time? We weren't even in the vortex!" Behind him, Amy pushed Rory off of her, impatient to get to the console to see what was wrong.

Hearing the rattle of the watch, David spied it and slipped under the railing to jump down to the main floor as the time rotor slowed for landing. As he landed, the ship jerked again, sending him sprawling with a surprised grunt as his target bounced away from him. The exclamation of pain caught the Doctor's attention, and he swept an arm at Amy and Rory. "Help David! Get the watch safe!" As the two of them acknowledged his commands and ran downstairs, the Doctor froze in dumbfounded confusion. "But this didn't...! What's...?" He pounded the console. "What happened?"

David scrambled to his feet and spotted the watch near the blue double doors, but stopped and gaped for a moment as both doors flew open. His eyes wide with panic, he lunged for the watch, but the TARDIS lurched one final time, and the device bounced out. There was nothing he could do: he had to get it back. Without looking to see where he was going, he sprinted through the doors after the dull brass watch that held his true life force.

His hands tearing at his hair, the Doctor groaned in frustration. "Go after him! We need that watch back. I've got to figure out..." His words trailed off as something flashed on the monitor, catching his attention.

"Right!" Amy grabbed Rory's hand and the couple dashed out of the TARDIS, but they pulled up short at the scene in front of them. In a large gallery with towering marble statues, five armoured men stood in a loose semicircle pointing their various weapons at David, who was kneeling, crouched on the carpet with his hands shielding his head, the tail of his brown overcoat flared out behind him. Not three feet in front of him, the leader stood with his heavy metal boot stepping on the small brass disc. A few other people, garbed in robes, dresses, and tunics, stood to the side, watching nervously. The two guards on the ends advanced on the couple with their swords.

"More demons!" Though the leader's demeanor was commanding, there was an undercurrent of fear in the slight quaver of his voice. "You will submit, or we will cut out your hearts where you stand!"

As Amy's and Rory's hands shot up in surrender, the TARDIS doors slammed shut and the familiar groaning of the time rotor reverberated through the echoing chamber. Everyone whirled to watch as the blue police box faded into nothingness, the guards with terror in their eyes, Amy and Rory with confusion in theirs, and David in astonished horror. Each of the men traced what looked like a protective sigil in the air with their free hands, then turned back to their prisoners.

"No more of your evil magics!" He shook his sword at David. "Get up!"

As David climbed to his feet, Amy pleaded with the leader. "Please! We don't mean any harm. We're here by mistake. All we want is the watch, and we'll leave."

One of the guards stepped forward and hooked David's arm, yanking him away from the leader, who then stooped to pick up the device under his boot. He sneered as he stared at it, flipping it over in his hand. "A demonic artefact, no doubt. The High Father will know what to do with it. Come!" Spinning on his heel, he strode towards the ornate doors at the far end of the room. His men urged the trio forward with their weapons, and they had no choice but to follow as prisoners.

"David, what -" Amy began, but the guard next to her grabbed her arm and silenced her with a growl. Rory moved to protect her with an affronted "Hey!" and was immediately yanked back by the guard behind him.

"Quiet!" the man yelled, and as the TARDIS crew proceeded without another word, Amy jerked her arm out of the guard's grasp. They were led through stately halls hung with lavish tapestries to a polished wooden door embossed with elaborate gold scrollwork. The leader knocked on it, and after a muffled acknowledgement from within, opened the door and gestured for the three prisoners to precede him.

They entered what was obviously an office, plainly decorated except for the rows and rows of shelving covering most of the walls and packed with thick tomes. A man in deep green robes, seated at a large desk covered in papers and more books, rose from his chair. Behind him, the one wall in the room with no shelving was covered almost entirely by a symbol consisting of a complex twist of ribbon within a circle, similar to a Celtic knot but without any simple symmetry. 

"What is this, Captain?" The man spoke with an air of command and elegance.

The guard captain gestured at the three. "We caught these intruders in the Hall of Silence, High Father. We brought them to you at once."

"The Hall of Silence? They should never have gotten so far." His brow furrowed slightly as he looked over each of the prisoners.

The captain straightened his shoulders, determined not to admit to any negligence on his part. "They are clearly demons, sire. A blue shack which howled and shrieked appeared there. We all saw it form from nothing. Then its doors opened, and the three of them emerged. Once they stepped out, the doors closed and it disappeared like it arrived."

"It appeared and disappeared, do you say? That certainly sounds suspicious." He nodded sagely. "However, the chariots of holy messengers also appear where they please." The guards jerked and bristled, nervous that if these were indeed envoys from the heavens, they might have offended them. The robed man smirked. "But I highly doubt it, Captain. I am sure that His Holiness would have informed us if he were expecting any such visits." He turned to the prisoners. "I am Cardinal Deretyr, First Servant to His Holiness Orsanal of the High Heavens. Who are you and what are you doing here?"

Amy tried to push past Rory to speak but he held her back, determined to protect her and, if he had to, speak for her. David thus felt that he needed to answer the man himself. "My name is David. Our ship landed here by accident, and we would be happy to leave in peace, but we need the watch that your captain holds."

"A 'watch'?" the leader queried. He gestured at the captain with little patience. "What is this he speaks of?"

"This." The captain held his hand out, revealing the brass disc in his palm. "It flew out of the shack when the doors opened, and this one tried to get it, but I retrieved it first."

"You will surrender that to me!" boomed a voice from the hallway. A robed man strode in, holding his hand out for the watch. "Demonic artefacts are my specialty, as you know." He beckoned peremptorily, and the captain glanced at the cardinal for approval.

Deretyr sighed, indicating some amount of contempt with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Yes, yes, give it to him." David groaned to himself as the captain stepped over to the newcomer and dropped the watch in his palm. "Captain, search them. They may have more objects of power on them."

The captain nodded to his men, who moved in and patted down their prisoners. Rory protested, "Hey!" as the guard on him thrust a gloved hand into his pocket and pulled out the blue-tipped sonic screwdriver.

"What is this?"

Ignoring the nurse, who stammered out the name of the object, the guard stepped to his captain and handed the tool to him. "This one had this on him."

The captain rolled it in his hand. "Another evil thing!" The newcomer waved him over with an impatient gesture, and with a glance at the cardinal, who nodded, the captain handed him the rod. Inspecting it with the eagerness of a child about to open his birthday present, the man retreated behind the cardinal.

Pursing his lips, Deretyr flicked a dismissive hand at Amy and David. "Take those two to the solitary rooms. This one will talk, if only to get his female back." 

As the guards began pushing David and a screaming Amy out of the door, the captain held Rory at bay at swordpoint. "Amy! It'll be ok. I'll get you!"

Once the clatter of armour from the hallway faded away, the cardinal addressed Rory. "Now. Who are you, why have you entered sacred ground, and how did you get so far? Answer carefully, for His Holiness will glean the truth from your soul and punish you accordingly if you lie."

Rory gulped. He had no idea who "His Holiness" was, but fervent religious adherents were often the easiest to offend and the most difficult to convince, and even if he was completely honest, his "truth" was not exactly the easiest to believe. However, honesty was probably best, especially if this man was planning to compare his story with Amy's and David's. "My... my name is Rory. Er, Rory Williams. I come, I mean, we come from a planet called Earth. We've been travelling with a friend, called the Doctor, in his spaceship that disappears and reappears wherever it likes. I'm not sure why we came here, but we just landed in that big room back there, and David dropped his watch - that's that round thing in his hand behind you. All we want is to get that back, and we'll be gone. Really."

"And this?" The artefact specialist held up the screwdriver. "What is this thing?"

"That belongs to the Doctor. It's his sonic screwdriver. He'd want that back as well, of course."

The cardinal frowned. "And where is this Doctor?" He turned to the guard captain. "Captain Jalla, did you see this other man?"

"No, High Father. Just the shack and these three."

"I don't know where he's gone, sir," interjected Rory, "but he'll be back. The Doctor wouldn't leave us here."

The cardinal stared at Rory, pondering his statements, then shook his head. "None of this makes sense. Why should you come here, to the inner sanctum of the sacred temple, without announcing yourselves?"

"David told you," Rory pointed out. "We came here by accident."

"How do you suddenly appear in the most heavily guarded building in the world by accident?" Deretyr dismissed the notion with a smirk. "Only those who would mean harm to His Holiness would sneak into the temple. But you sneak in with a noisy 'ship', as you call it, and you cannot pretend to go unnoticed in your strange garments. Was it your intention to be captured? Why would that be so?" He turned to the specialist. "Perhaps, Bishop Tullet, these are a trap. They knew we would take these objects, and they mean us some harm. What is your opinion?"

"Let me take a look at them." The bishop stowed the screwdriver in a pocket, then inspected the watch carefully. After a half a minute, he mumbled. "The cover etching is very interesting. Geometric patterns. Pretty, but not much order to them. There is a hinge here, which makes me think that this button here would let it fall open, like a mollusk."

"No!" protested Rory. "Please. Don't open it." Panicking, he couldn't come up with a good reason why not. "It's David's. If you want to see inside of it, he really should be the one who opens it."

"It hides some secret, does it not?" Tullet's tone was triumphant. "Something you don't want us to see. Then we must see it." Holding the watch in one hand, he pressed the button of the watch with the forefinger of the other hand. The cover the watch popped open and golden light burst out, startling the man into dropping it with a surprised cry. As the light filled the room, a cloud of shimmering gold tendrils began to snake out of the device. Tracing protective sigils over their face and chest, Tullet and Deretyr scampered away as Captain Jalla jumped forward and brought the pommel of his sword down on the watch's face. The crystal shattered, the glass shards tinkling across the marble tiles.

"Stop!" cried Rory. Darting forward, he snatched up the watch and tried to close it, but the casing was warped, the cogs inside peeking out from under its bent lip, and the latch was broken. He held the two halves closed as best he could, faint glimmers of light peeking between his fingers. The golden cloud pulsed as it floated in the room, then suddenly sank into the floor.

"What was that?" Tullet was staring at the floor where the mass of energy had disappeared.

"I don't know." Rory shook his head. "I don't think that was supposed to happen."

"I am firmly of the opinion that these three will need to be dealt with by His Holiness himself." Deretyr straightened his robe. "I think we are far out of our depths. Captain, retrieve that object and make sure it stays closed." Jalla brandished his sword at Rory, who glared at him as he handed over the watch. The captain tucked it very carefully into a tight pocket to secure it. "Take him to the cells to await his judgment."

Jalla stared meaningfully at Rory, and the nurse rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I see how this is going." He sighed and walked out of the office, the guard following him closely.


	2. Chapter 2

If it wasn't for the weapon at her back, Amy would have immediately turned back for Rory, pummeling the guards with her fists if she had to. However, there was nothing she could do against four heavily armed and armoured men, and so she trudged along, with David by her side where Rory should have been. Stealing a look at her companion, she saw that he was barely controlling his panic, clenching his fists at his side and keeping a steady gaze at the floor. She wondered if the guards would mind her talking, then decided that if they did, they could just tell her to shut up.

"It's okay, David. We'll get out of this." There was no response, either from him or the guards, so she continued. "We're harmless. They'll figure it out and let us go."

"It doesn't matter," David finally mumbled through gritted teeth. "Nothing matters if I don't get that watch back." The guards urged them to turn and they descended a marble staircase.

"We'll get it. Rory will figure something out. He's clever that way." She hoped that she sounded convincing to him, because she certainly didn't sound convincing to herself.

"I've gone and messed up again." He smacked one fist on top of the other a few times. "I've outdone myself. And this time, I'll just endanger all of reality, shall I?"

Amy stopped to stare at David. "What are you talking about?"

"This way!" One of the guards pushed Amy into a side corridor, and David followed her. "Come on. You can yammer all you like. Just keep walking."

"Oi, I got it. You don't have to shove." Amy glared at the man, who ignored her, then looked around as she started moving again. Though sparsely decorated, the corridor was clean and finely built. Every three metres or so was a heavy wooden door with a small barred window and bolts on the visible side. "Where are we?" she wondered out loud.

"The solitary cells," replied one of the guards, who stopped and unbolted a door. "Built for quiet contemplation. Good for prisoners, too." He opened the door, revealing a tiny spartan room with walls of smooth stone, a sleeping mat and a thin blanket in the corner, and what was probably a chamber pot. A high narrow window let in just enough sunlight to keep the room from being gloomy. "Get in, both of you."

David turned to him. "Really, we just want to get our things and leave. We never intended to intrude. Can't you help us?"

"Save your silver-tongued words, demon. Get in there!" With both hands, the guard shoved David and he stumbled into the room, barely keeping himself on his feet as he caught himself against the opposite wall.

"Oi! yelled Amy. "You don't need to do that!"

"Do as you're told and I won't. Now, get in there!" As Amy glared at the guard, his eyes flicked past her into the room and widened with fear. She whirled to see a cloud of golden energy descend from the ceiling. It paused for a moment, as if it was searching for something, then streaked towards the startled David. With the energy coalescing around him, he stared at his hands, which shimmered and pulsed, before it all suddenly absorbed into him.

For one moment, David's eyes popped wide open, shining with power and ecstasy, then snapped shut as he began to scream, his body twisting and crumpling in agony. As he fell to his knees and clawed his head, the guards backed away from the door, drawing sigils over themselves. Amy ran into the room and hovered over her friend writhing on the ground. "David! David! What's happening? David!" 

"Ahhhh! Gnnnggnahhhh! Hurts! Ahhhh! Stop! Stop! Arrh! Please! Stop!" He kicked and squirmed, tangling himself in his coat, and rocked back and forth on the stone floor. The guards shouted orders at each other.

"Lock him in! Don't let the demon out!"

"Tell the cardinal!"

"Go!"

Behind Amy, the door slammed, and she barely heard the bolt clang into place over David's cries. She dropped to the floor and tried to steady him, but she didn't have enough strength to suppress his frenzied tremors. No longer screaming but still insensible with pain, he curled up into a ball, his arms clutched over his chest. "Uh! Uh! Nnnh! Make it stop! Please! Ahnnhh!" he ground out through gritted teeth.

Amy rocked back on her heels, paralysed without any idea of how to help him. She hopped back to her feet and flattened against the wall after a kick nearly sent her sprawling. There she stood, her hands clamped over her mouth, watching her friend suffer, squirming and contorting from the pain. Finally, after what felt like hours to her, his eyes, streaming with tears, popped open, sightless but with sudden relief, and he collapsed in a limp pile.

"David!" Kneeling beside him, Amy grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him gently, but he didn't respond, probably for the best, she decided. Feeling his face and neck, she found that his skin was clammy and wet with sudden sweat, but his breathing was steady, as normal as she could expect under the circumstances. She sat down and eased his head into her lap, stroking his hair and murmuring, "It's okay. You're okay now. Just rest."

A few minutes later, the door was thrown open wide as Rory was pushed into the now-crowded room. "Stay there. We'll get to the bottom of this," Jalla grunted as he secured the door and stomped away down the hall.

Rory dropped to the floor and caught Amy in a hug before asking, "What happened? We met the guards in the hall and they were spooked."

"I don't know. This glowing cloud came down from the ceiling." She pointed. "Right up there. It surrounded David and he started screaming like it was killing him. It finally let up and here he is."

"Let me see." Rory felt around David's head for bumps or bruises, then, leaning close to get a good look, lifted an eyelid, which he dropped immediately. "Oh my god."

"What?" 

"Look." 

Rory lifted the eyelid again, pulling his head back so Amy could see. David's eye shone with an intense golden light, so bright that she couldn't see the eye at all. Amy gasped. "That's just like the cloud I saw."

"I think it's from the watch. I don't know." Rory let the eyelid shut again. "This is way beyond me."

David groaned and stirred. "Wha-?"

"David!" Amy stroked his head again. "Are you okay? How do you feel?"

"Uhhh..." He shifted, trying to push himself up, streams of light leaking as his eyes creaked open.

Just then, Amy heard the clank of armour, announcing the return of the guards. Holding the man down, she leaned in over him and whispered. "Pretend you're still out, okay? You've got to keep your eyes closed." David whimpered and collapsed back in her lap, and she took that as an agreement.

The door burst open and the cardinal strode in, his guards remaining in the hallway as if they were too afraid to approach. Amy read what he was about to do from the anger in his face and decided to go on the offensive.

"What have you done?" she screamed at him. She threw her arms around David and rocked him back and forth. "Why are you torturing him? We haven't done anything to harm you! He almost died!" The shock of uncertainty flitted across Deretyr's face, and she smiled inwardly whilst maintaining an expression of frightened anger.

The cardinal drew himself up. "It was your evil magics, a trick. The servants of Orsanal do not resort to such evils. He does not need to sully his holy self to discover the truth!"

"Liar!" Amy retorted, and the cardinal huffed in offense. "Why would we do this to our friend? You did this! You evil man!" She felt David twitch and continued rocking him to mask his movements.

The cardinal hesitated, confused by the recent events and Amy's logic. "There is some infernal plot here, something you are doing to undermine our faith. His Holiness shall get to the bottom of this." He backed out of the room. "I shall arrange that audience. Misho, bolt the door and clear out the rest of the chambers. No supplicants here today." The guard closed the door and threw the bolt. "Bring them food and water, but do not open the door for any more than that. Post two guards at the entrance to the cells and don't talk to them. I don't want anyone closer, where they can be corrupted by their speech." His voice faded as the men retreated.

Amy stared at Rory as they waited to be sure everyone was gone. After a couple minutes of silence, she released David from her protective hug and straightened. “It’s okay. They’re gone.”

David rolled off her lap and curled on the stone floor, his arms wrapped around his head. “No no no no no…” he murmured.

Rory scrambled next to him and tried to roll him back over. “Let me look, David. Something’s wrong. Your eyes…”

“I know! I know!” he cried, but he cringed away from Rory. 

"Come on," Rory coaxed. "Let me check you out." He wanted to look at David's eyes again, but as he couldn't get him to relax and turn toward him, he snaked his fingers under his chin and felt for his pulse. At once, all the colour drained from the nurse's face. “What the -? Uh…” His eyes widened, and he rocked David back towards him so that he could thrust his hand between his arms to feel at his chest.

Amy stared at both of them in turn. “What? What's wrong?” 

“Oh.” Rory slumped, his hand resting on David’s shoulder.

“What?”

“He’s got two hearts.” Rory swallowed.

Amy’s jaw dropped and she choked, her words stuck in her throat.

David groaned. “Everything's wrong. Everything is so very wrong.”

Rory wrung his hands. “They opened the watch. I told them not to, but they did. Then when the light burst out, that guard captain bashed it with his sword and broke it. I got it closed, and the energy sank into the ground and I thought it went away. Obviously not.”

Amy gestured at the man on the ground. "It came here and went into him. That's what he was trying to do in the TARDIS, right? Become the Doctor again?"

"No, I'm not the Doctor. I'm David, I'm David," he chanted. Holding his head in both hands, he continued to rock back and forth on the ground, moaning. "No. No no no. This can't be happening. This is a nightmare."

Amy leaned over and embraced her friend, murmuring comfort into his ear. "It's okay, David. It'll all be all right. The Doctor will fix everything when he gets here."

"No." He shook his head in spasms. "You don't understand. Everything is wrong. It didn't happen like this. The watch is gone and it's broken and this can't happen. This didn't happen." Amy and Rory stared at each other, trying to make sense of what he was saying. David rolled away from Amy and pushed himself up to sit. His eyes shone gold as they flicked around the room without seeing any of it; he was concentrating on what was happening inside his head. He dragged one hand through his hair. "It's so complicated. And it'll unravel, right here." He pounded his breastbone with his fist a few times. "I've got to stop it or it'll all come apart. Oh, it's magnificent," he breathed. "But it's all wrong."

"What is, David?" Amy concentrated to keep her voice low and steady, to try to calm her friend down.

"I... I can see it all now. Oh, my head is spinning." He buried his face in his hands. " _What is, what was, what could be, what must not._ It's glorious. It's horrifying. How can he stand this at all?"

Rory scooted in front of David and tipped his chin up, forcing the actor to look at him. The glow of his eyes seemed dimmer but was still uncomfortable to stare into. "David. Come on. Get ahold of yourself. You've got to help us help you. Tell us what's happening."

Nodding, David leaned back, then swallowed and breathed deeply a few times before trying to speak. "It's hard. I can't... I can't... I can’t think. Not just one... I can't handle all of it." Rory opened his mouth to ask what he meant, but then snapped it shut as he decided to let David speak at his own pace. His friend took a few more moments to compose himself. "I'm a Time Lord now. No, no, I'm not. I can't be. I don't have the knowledge, the training. What I am is... I've got the body of a Time Lord. Sort of. It's not right. I'm broken, but I don't know how. And I can't deal with all of this. I can't deal with seeing time and I can hear my hearts beating and see more colours and feel my body working and taste the air and it's too much and it's all broken and this didn't happen and the future is folding in on me and I've got to fix it but I might not have done and..."

As the jumble of words tumbled from his lips with increasing speed, Rory slapped David across the face with a sharp crack. Recoiling, David gasped for air. "Oh. Oh god. I couldn't stop. Thoughts are moving so fast. Twisting. Spiralling. Swirling through my head."

Rory held his friend by the shoulders, steadying him. "Calm down, David. Look at me. Can you concentrate on me?"

David's eyes flicked to his friend's face and stayed there for a moment, then wandered off. "I don't think so. I think... I think I'm not done changing. Not yet. I can't keep a straight thought. Ohhhh...." He swayed a bit. "It hurts."

Rory clasped David to himself, laying his friend's head on his shoulder and patting him on the back. "Relax and let it happen. Close your eyes. Maybe you can fall asleep." He could feel the man attempt to relax against him, but he was still trembling.

"Can't close my eyes," he mumbled. "Do you know how bright the inside of my eyelids are right now? It's blinding."

The nurse began rocking his friend just like Amy had a few minutes ago. Over his head, he silently beseeched Amy for any help, but she shrugged; whatever was happening was far beyond their experiences. Crawling over and sitting next to him, she helped him cradle David, who curled into a ball between them.

As the minutes passed, Rory noticed the light in David's eyes fading and could feel him starting to relax, his head and shoulders becoming heavier. Nodding a reassurance to Amy, he continued to stroke his friend's back, waiting for him to either fall asleep or talk when he was ready. Nearly half an hour passed before David drew in a deep shuddering breath and pushed himself upright, out of his friends' embrace.

"Thank you." His head bowed, he hugged himself as he turned to face them, his hands grasping at his arms as if he was trying to convince himself that he was still real. "My mind is much clearer. I don't know what to think, but at least I can concentrate on one thing at a time now."

"Are you feeling better?" Rory asked. "Does it still hurt?"

"No. I just ache all over now, like the flu." Lifting his head, he regarded his friends with a shy cringe, as if he expected them to run screaming from him. His eyes were no longer glowing; it simply seemed that his brown eyes were now sparkling golden. "Tell me it didn't happen. What I think happened. Tell me, please."

"I don't know." Rory rubbed the back of his neck, trying to think of what he could do to figure out what exactly happened. "I mean, I don't know what happened, and I don't know what you think, really."

Thrusting his hands into his jacket pockets, David pulled a stethoscope from one of them and handed it to Rory. "Here." He gathered his courage with a deep breath. "Check my h..." He couldn't finish the word and tapped his breastbone.

As Rory began to listen at his friend's chest, Amy sat up on her knees. "You're David, right? That's what you said before."

He nodded. "Right. I'm David. I shouldn't be. I should be dead. I should be the Doctor now, but I'm not."

Rory pulled the stethoscope from his ears, shaking his head. "You've got two hearts now, definitely. I don't really know anything about Time Lord physiology, but if I had to make an opinion, I'd say something's wrong with your breathing. It's stuttering oddly."

David nodded. "That was deliberate. I engaged the respiratory bypass when you were listening, to see if you could hear it."

The nurse stared at him. "The what?"

"The respiratory bypass. Time Lords have this thing that allows them to go without breathing for a little while. I can feel all that. I'm aware of my two hearts and the bypass, and how my body works." He shuddered. "It's disturbing."

"You're aware of time, too, aren't you?" Amy's voice was barely a whisper.

David's eyes flashed. "Yes. That's even more disturbing." He began to rock back and forth, trembling. 

Uncertain what to do, Rory glanced at Amy before offering David a vague reassurance. "It'll be okay."

"No." Still staring at nothing, David swallowed. "It's far worse than you know. It's not just that we're stuck in prison or that I've changed into... whatever I am now. I can see time, and... oh god, I can see what I've done. I've messed up so completely..." With great effort, he pulled himself back to the present. "I've created a paradox. One wee action, and I've snarled up time, from the moment I arrived. It's such a mess, it's hard to think straight." Closing his eyes, he massaged his head. "You know that I'm the Doctor, right? That 'David' is just a fake person that he made up for himself, right?"

Amy leaned forward and grasped David's shoulder. "You know that's not true. You're not a fake anything."

David's eyes popped open. He caught Amy's gaze and held it. "It _is_ true. I may think and feel and be a person, but I am also artificial." His voice was devoid of emotion. Suddenly uneasy, Amy shivered and retreated. "I was about to... I was going to open the watch, so the Doctor would return, and then I lost it, right? That never happened."

"What?" Frowning with confusion, they both stared at him.

"It never happened. It's a new thread in the web." Rory and Amy glanced at each other to make sure the other hadn't understood what he meant, and David smiled. "I'm not being clear at all, am I? It's like this. Your Doctor was once me, and he opened the watch and returned. But I didn't, so what's happening now didn't happen, and what should have happened isn't happening. That's a paradox, twisting a huge timeline in on itself. It affects everything that happens to the Doctor, from now, from me right now, until... well, me, back then. If any of that happens, that is. Because it happened to us, right? But now it might not.”

The couple stared at him, blinking in unison. David allowed them to process what he just said, and finally, Rory shook his head. "That didn't make a lick of sense.”

David bit his lip, the look on his face betraying his disbelief that the situation wasn’t completely crystalline. “It didn't?"

Amy cocked her head at him. "Do you have a quota for how many times you have to say 'happen' in a day? Because I think you're good for the month."

"But it's simple!" David protested. "I've desynced the events and spawned a new timeline which hasn't resolved yet and..." He trailed off, horrified, and slapped a hand to his mouth. "I'm doing it, aren't I?"

Amy frowned. "Doing what?"

"I'm being completely obtuse without realising it. Nothing I'm saying is making any sense to you, is it?"

Rory pointed at him. " _Those_ sentences made sense."

David scrubbed both hands over his face, panting with frustration. "Okay." He straightened and nodded. "I'm sorry. I'm trying. I really am. But my mind is not working like I'm used to. Things that I wouldn't have understood yesterday seem so natural now, while other things are lost in a haze." He tugged on an ear as he thought. "In simple terms. I have to think of time in simple terms," he murmured. Looking directly at Amy, he began his explanation again. "When I had the watch in my hand, I opened it and became the Doctor again. That's what should have happened. But it didn't. I lost the watch, and this" - he waved a hand down his body from head to toe - "this happened. Two different outcomes from two different events. The Doctor remembers the first happening, but we saw this one instead. That's a paradox."

Amy nodded slowly. "Okay, I understand that. How can that happen?"

He inhaled to answer, then grinned. "I can't answer that, really. Either you want to know the temporal physics behind the paradox or you want to know why the TARDIS suddenly took off, and I don't know the answer to either. All I know is how it's affecting the timestream."

"And that means?"

His eyes unfocused as he explored in his mind. "There are creatures that inhabit the time vortex that will try to fix the paradox by destroying the time and space and events around it. That means erasing the entire time from when the Doctor rescued me from the pile-up through now, to the end of my Doctor, and then to finding me, because the problem is that if I never return to being the Doctor, how could he exist to find me? Think of all the worlds and times you've visited with him, and add to that all the worlds and times my Doctor visited after I became the Doctor again. All of that would have to be destroyed to fix the paradox." Sighing, he refocused on his friends. 

"Are you sure about this?" Amy shivered.

"Quite. The timestream is a huge tangle in my mind. Excising even a small part of it is disastrous, and this will take out worlds." He hugged himself. "Oh, I've messed this up so completely."

"I don't think it's your fault, David," Amy commented, gently coaxing him to relax. "No one could have held onto the watch with the TARDIS shaking like it was."

David looked up, frowning. "Then whose fault was it? Who didn't manage to keep the watch from tumbling out of the door?"

"That was an accident! And anyway, blame whoever or whatever caused the TARDIS to take off like it did."

"I can't. The Doctor is my responsibility, the one thing I had to do, and I didn't do it. I failed to protect him." An uneasy silence settled between the three friends.

After a few minutes, Rory glanced around the room. "So, these creatures should show up any minute now and destroy the world around us, then."

"Not quite. I think..." David weighed his words carefully before continuing. "I think that the watch wasn't destroyed. If it were, there'd be no way for me to return to being the Doctor and therefore no way to resolve the paradox. So, if there's still the possibility that I could get the watch back, becoming the Doctor again might be good enough to fix everything, or at least patch the timestream with a little duct tape." The glow in his eyes intensified, and he wrung his hands, his knuckles turning white under his fingers. "I think. I think that simply making sure the Doctor returns from me will fix it." Scowling, he pounded his fists on each other. "I think, I think, I think! I don't _know_! I can see all of it, but I don't know what it means! I don't know what I'm doing! I'm going to mess it up even more!"

Amy plopped down next to him and threw her arm around his shoulders. "It's okay. You don't have to do anything. The Doctor'll come get us, and he'll know what to do."

David's chin dropped to his chest. "He's not coming."

Amy stiffened. "You can't know that."

"I can."

"How?"

"I don't know. I just know that he's not." He closed his eyes and concentrated. "Maybe... maybe it's because of the paradox. Yes. That's it. The TARDIS can't break into the paradox. It's already maintaining the one that allows me to be with the Doctor in the first place, so it can't enter this one. I'm sure of it."

Sitting back on her heels, Amy crossed her arms and glared at David. “I don’t believe you. He’ll come for us. I have faith in him.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Both David and Amy turned to Rory in surprise. “He’s not here now and we have to handle this ourselves. We do the only thing we can see as an option: get that watch back and make sure the Doctor comes back."

"If that's enough..." David began, but Rory spoke over him.

"And if it's not, we figure out what to do next when we get there." 

Rory stared at David until his friend exhaled and nodded. "Right. We do what we have to do." His shining eyes faded.

"So." Amy jumped up and paced as much as she could around the tiny room. "How do we get the watch back?"

David shook his head. "I don't know. I don't think they've tried to destroy it again. I have a feeling I'd know if they had."

"Let's try this." Amy strode to the door and pounded on it. Sticking her face in the little window, she yelled, "Oi! You! Out there! Come in here! We want to talk to you!" Listening carefully, she heard the clanking of armour and voices, but they soon silenced. "Yeah, you! I'm talking to you! I know you can hear me!" Again, there were a few noises, and then nothing. She turned back to the two men. "True to their orders. They're not talking to us. I don't think we'll get anything from them until they take us to their pope or whoever."

"'His Holiness'," Rory murmured as his fiancee sat down next to him and put her arm around his shoulders. "They seemed afraid of him. Scared of taking up his time with us. I'm not particularly eager to meet him myself. They think we're demons, and that cardinal thinks we should be smited."

David rolled his eyes. "So, we have to convince the pope that we're not demons despite having appeared out of thin air, that this was all a huge mistake, that we're friendly and we'll just be on our way, and, oh, that strange device that nearly killed me isn't a threat at all, so can we please get it back?" He shrugged. "Piece of cake."

"We could tell him the truth," suggested Rory. "Tell him exactly what happened and what the watch does. It seems to me that we don't need the watch back so much as we need to get it opened without being destroyed first." 

David shuddered at the thought. Shaking his head, he started muttering to himself. "He could have at least told me how much it was going to hurt," he mumbled, then snorted. "Of course, I played that on screen. I should have known." Crossing his legs, he rested his chin in his hand. "I'd really rather have control over when the watch gets opened," he remarked to Rory.

"We might not have that choice."

"Thanks for making me feel better."

"Yeah, well, that's my function here. Life of the party." Rory gazed around the room. "Maybe there's some other way out of here. What is this place, anyway?"

Glancing up at the single window, David studied it while he talked. "The guard said these rooms are for solitary contemplation. So people come here to pray? A bit strange that the doors have bolts on the outside."

"Sounds like they force them to come here, then." Amy pointed at the mat and the chamber pot. "And keep them here at least a night."

"Probably to make them demonstrate the strength of their faith. Hm.” He looked up at the walls. “Maybe the window." David popped up from the floor and toppled, catching himself with both hands to the wall. His friends were immediately at his side, supporting him upright, but he jerked his arms out of their grasps and waved them away. "No, no, I'm fine." He did keep one hand on the wall to steady himself.

"What happened?" Rory inched around him, trying to get a good look at his eyes.

"I overshot." Stretching each of his arms and legs, he then wiggled and clenched his fingers and pushed against the wall with the palms of his hands. "This is so strange. This body is stronger and more agile. Not by too much, but enough to throw me off. I'm going to be knocking into things a bit." Moving to the window, step by tentative step, he stood on tiptoes to look over the lower edge. “It’s a thick wall, and a pane of glass that I could open. It opens a little above the ground. Looks like a courtyard on the outside of this place. Maybe it’s big enough to get through?”

Shrugging off his coat and tossing it in an opposite corner, he reached in and flipped the window latch, pulling it open and setting the stop so that the pane was out of the way. He then hooked the frame with a hand and pulled himself smoothly up into the window, turning his head to squeeze in. He wriggled a bit, then pushed himself back out, dropping lightly to the floor. “No. It’s too tight.”

Amy nodded. “Then we wait.” With an air of resignation, she plopped down on the mat, and Rory joined her, whilst David sat against the opposite wall, his elbows propped on his knees. From his unfocused expression, they could tell he was exploring his new consciousness again, and they left him to it.


	3. Chapter 3

Hours passed as they sat in the little room. At first, Amy and Rory were content to be silent whilst David sat as still as a stone, staring into space, but the boredom eventually took over and they began chatting in low voices about nothing important. Their first words were like gunshots in the silence, but their companion didn’t react so they continued to talk when they felt like it. The day and sunlight waned, and the creeping darkness was effective in muting any conversation. The room began to chill, and David jumped up to close the window, tottering a bit again, then scooped up his coat and laid it around Amy’s shoulders.

“Thanks.” She pulled it around herself and spread it over her bare legs as David returned to his spot. “How are you feeling?”

“Unreal.” Amy could see him trying to inspect his hands in the darkness. “I feel like a child at a carnival for the first time. So many things to see, and none of it makes any sense.” He clapped lightly. "But, I feel a lot more stable now. If only this light in my eyes would go away. Or, I guess I'll have to get used to it being like daytime when I go to sleep."

"It has faded quite a lot." Rory tried to sound encouraging. "Maybe it just needs a bit more time."

"It's creepy," stated Amy. In addition to the golden eyes locking onto her, she could feel Rory's amazed stare next to her. "No, not the glow itself. Just seeing these eyes watching me in the darkness. I can't look away."

For a moment, offended sputtering emanated from the darkness. Then the actor murmured, "Wait." His vague shadow shifted, and after some plastic clicking, the shining eyes disappeared, a very faint shimmer hanging where they used to be. "Is that better?" David's voice was constricted with annoyance.

"Yeah. What did you do?"

"Sunglasses. Of course, now I can't see a thing. Sunglasses at night, and then I'm blinded by the reflection on the lenses. Gah! All I can see are my own eyes in the lenses. You’re right. This _is_ creepy."

"Thanks, David. I'm sorry."

"Yeah." He sighed. "I wish they'd give us a lamp. Hm." More random noises, then a groan of disgust. "You'd think he'd carry a torch! What is...? I think this is a Bunsen burner. Got a gas line?"

Rory shrugged though no one could see him. "I wish they'd bring that food they mentioned."

"Oh! I think there's a package of Jelly Babies in here, and... Yes! Half a package of biscuits." He leaned over and handed them to his friend.

"Thanks." For a moment, the cell was filled with the crackle of packaging being opened, and then crunching. Rory held out the open bag of biscuits. "Here."

"No, thanks. Not hungry. Wait, hold on.” After a moment’s silence, he murmured, “I think this is a sandwich.”

Amy choked. “Oh, that’s disgusting!” She heard the unmistakable sound of clingfilm being ripped open, then a few sniffs.

“No, this is fresh. Ham and cheese.” Another sound told her that he’d taken a small bite. “Yes, very fresh. Good ham.”

Amy slapped a hand to her forehead. “Just how long has that jacket hung in your wardrobe, David?”

“It’s always been there as far as I know.” His dark form held out the sandwich, a little high so that it floated in front of her face, evidence of his inability to see anything. “Try it. It’s good. Maybe time doesn’t pass inside his pockets. Maybe it’s the wrap. Chronostatic clingfilm.”

She got a tantalizing whiff of ham and her stomach rumbled. “What are you on about?” She took the sandwich from him and inspected it. It certainly smelled delicious, with no hint of any spoilage. “Are you sure about this?”

“I haven’t thrown up yet.”

“Maybe Time Lords can eat rotten food.”

“I wouldn’t put it past them.”

Amy took a nibble and had to agree: it was a fine sandwich. “This is good. Thanks. Want some, Rory?”

“Sure, I’ll take a bite, since you said it’s fine.”

“Oh, believe her, why don’t you?” David complained in mock offense. He leaned back against the wall while his friends ate, then suddenly jerked upright. “They’re coming.”

“What? How do you know?”

“I can hear them. Metal armour and voices.” He jumped up, fumbling yet again, this time hitting the wall hard due to his blindness and untuned proprioception. He grunted as he grabbed his bruised shoulder.

Amy and Rory were beside him in a second. “You’ve got to take it slow. Are you okay?” Rory blindly patted his friend on the back.

“I keep forgetting. Yeah, I’m fine.”

The door to the block of cells opened, and Amy immediately dashed to the cell door to peer out of the little window. A guard with a glowing stick, like a torch but without flame, walked into the hallway, followed by a robed woman who was obviously a prisoner and two other guards. The last guard was grumping, “If there’s one, there’s always another. You can never have one problem at a time.”

Their prisoner begged, “Please, no! I didn’t mean what I said. You’ve got it wrong! I’m faithful, I am. Please!”

The lead guard opened a cell and grabbed the woman, pushing her into it. “Shut up and take your punishment, blasphemer!” He pushed the door closed and bolted it.

“Oi! Soldier boy! We want to talk to you!” Amy called as Rory and David came up beside her, the actor pulling his sunglasses off and stowing them in his pocket.

“Ignore the demons,” ordered one of the other guards. “Don’t let them ensnare your mind.” The three of them turned their backs and left, closing the door and casting them into darkness again.

Rory spun and strode away, throwing up his hands in frustration. “We’re going to be stuck here forever!”

Amy called to the other cell. “Hey! You okay over there?”

There was a short silence before a quiet, tentative voice replied. “I’m fine. You’re the demons, right?”

She wasn’t quite sure how to answer. “Well, no. We’re not demons. We’re just people.”

Another brief silence. “You’re from the stars, aren’t you?”

Puzzled, Amy glanced at David before answering. “Yes, we are.”

“I knew it!” Her tone was triumphant. “You’re proof, that’s what you are.”

“Proof of what?”

“Proof that Orsanal is not a god.” Amy could see that the woman had appeared at her window and was trying to see who she was talking to.

The outer door opened again and a gruff voice admonished them. “Quiet in there! No talking, or I’ll come shut you up!” The door slammed again.

“What do you mean?" Amy called softly after a few moments.

"He's one of you, isn't he?" she answered, just as quietly. "A man from the stars, with devices that enforce his will."

"Uh, he's not one of us, but I don't know where he might be from." She glanced at Rory with a puzzled look. "I'm Amy. What's your name?"

"I'm Minlay."

"Nice to meet you, Minlay. Why do you think your god is a man from another world?"

Minlay hesitated, and suddenly she sounded guarded and closed. "Er, well, it's just silly talk, really. No one really believes it. It's just stuff you say, you know."

David whispered to Amy, "She's not going to talk about it if she thinks she will be condemned for it."

"Oh! Yeah, I get it." She turned back to the window. "We're really not demons, you know. We came here by accident, and we just want to be on our way. Tell us. Maybe we can help."

"Oh, I don't know..."

"Please? Just tell us a little, so we know what to expect when they come to get us."

There was a slight pause. "You really don't know, do you?"

"We don't even know what the name of this world is."

Another pause. “This is Cherel. How do you not know that?”

“As I said, we came here by accident. Please.” Amy put a little desperation into her plea. “Tell us what’s going on, and why you’re here with us.”

"I suppose it doesn't hurt anything. It can't get any worse." After a bit of scuffling, Minlay's voice was rather clearer, though still low. "My people were once ruled by god-kings, avatars of the gods made flesh to rule and guide us." She sounded like she was reciting a school lesson. "But we descended into evil and corruption, and the god-king Orsanal decided that we needed a firmer hand. He made his manifest self immortal among men by creating the Chamber of Rebirth here in his most holy temple and cleansing his mortal body once a year. It is a sacred ritual, the creation of his new body and the discarding of the old. 

“My family is beholden to the temple. We’ve served as cleritechs, Keepers of the Chamber of Rebirth, for countless generations. We maintain the Chamber, per the instructions in holy writ, which we are trained to read and interpret as soon as we are old enough to speak. 

“But as Keepers of the Chamber, we see more than anyone else. We work closely with the divine magic. Or that’s what we’re told. But the magic is nothing like anything else we’ve seen. Our soothsayers and priests work with rituals and prayers and draughts, but we work with metal and lightning. And His Holiness understands none of it. He pretends that he does, but he waves us off and tells us to study our scripture when we must ask him. It makes no sense."

"'His Holiness' is the god himself," Rory murmured to his friends. "Not the pope. Actually the god." Unable to hear him, Minlay continued to tell her story.

“We speak among ourselves about this, but there was no explanation until you arrived and claimed to be from another world. When we heard of this, my sister, Darrow, suggested that His Holiness is one of you, and that you had come to take him home, and we talked of it. The guard heard me and arrested me for blasphemy.

“But it’s true, isn’t it? His Holiness is one of you.”

Amy hesitated, glancing at David and Rory before answering. “I don’t know. I mean, maybe, but we didn’t come for him. We don’t even know him. We really did come here by mistake.”

“Oh.” Minlay’s despair was evident in her voice.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m a blasphemer, and I’m not even right. If I’m going to die, I’d at least like to be right about what I said.”

“Why are you going to die?”

“All blasphemers are executed.”

“What? You can appeal, can’t you? Repent and appeal?”

“Appeal? For speaking against the god? There is no appeal. Just judgment and death.” She choked back a sob.

“Don’t worry. We’ll think of something. We won’t let you die.”

David grabbed Amy's arm and pulled her from the window. “What are you doing?” he hissed. “We can’t promise that.”

“We can’t just let her die! We’re responsible for her being here in the first place!”

“This is not our world. We can’t just walk in and change their laws.”

“Even a law that kills a person for saying one little thing?”

“It’s not our judgment to make. How would you like it if aliens came to Earth and demanded that we changed our laws to suit their morality?”

Amy jabbed David in the chest. “Don't argue degrees of morality with me! She's going to die for something she said. That's not justifiable on any world."

"That's your opinion."

"And it's not yours? You'd just let her die? That's not like you."

David inhaled to argue, then froze in confusion. "Isn't it?" He tore at his hair with both hands. "I don't want her to die and I think it's a horrible law, but it's not that simple. It's not our place to judge their society. And we don't know what might happen if we try to save her." The glow in his eyes intensified. "We might be able to... then it might... but then..." As he dissolved into rambling, unconnected babble, his eyes shone brightly enough that Rory could see Amy clearly in the golden light. The girl lashed out a hand and caught David smartly across the cheek. He stumbled away, shocked, and Amy followed him, trying to help him recover.

"What’s wrong with you?"

"It's hard for me to think straight," he coughed out. "All the threads, all the possible futures - I can't handle how they weave through my mind, not yet." The light in his eyes began to fade. "We come in here and we try to do what's right, or what we think is right, and there are so many different ways it could turn out. Maybe we'd save her life and everything goes on as normal, but there's also a timeline in which their entire society is destroyed and results in war and chaos and the deaths of millions of people. And there are a thousand other outcomes in between."

“Can’t you find one that ends like you want it to?”

“It doesn’t work like that. It isn’t just one event after another. Every action spawns possible new outcomes. I can only do something and hope for the best.” He looked up at her, his eyes wide with horror. “And besides, who am I to decide what’s the right future, for anyone?”

"But we can't just let her die! It would be our fault!"

David scrubbed down his face with both hands, his mind still staring at the timestream. "I... I don't know what to do. Maybe no one can. Maybe this is why the Time Lords didn't interfere, because they could see all the possible results and couldn't guarantee the right one. They knew they couldn't even make the choice of what the right one was.” He clapped a hand to his mouth. “Ohh. That's why he..." The last phrase was more of a murmur to himself.

“David?”

“Oh, god, Amy. You’ve got to help me. I can’t do this.”

Amy shrugged, incredulous. “What can _I_ do? I don’t understand what you’re saying at all.”

“What you do,” interjected Rory, coming up next to David and grasping his shoulder, “is what you’ve always done.” His voice was soft and gentle. “It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks is right. Do what you think is right, and whatever happens next is whatever happens next. You can’t let your fear of what _might_ happen stop you from doing the right thing now. If you did that, you’d be frozen and never do anything.”

“I feel frozen,” David mumbled.

“Well, I’m going to try my best to help her.” Amy set her fists on her hips. “I don’t know what we can do, but I’ll at least make the attempt.”

“I want to help her. I really do. I just can’t ignore what I’m seeing, and the paradox is just confusing it more.” He rubbed his eyes. “I’ll try. Go ahead and comfort her. I’ll try my best.” He strode off to stare out of the window into the courtyard.

Murmuring softly across the hall to Minlay, Amy reassured the woman that they would try their best to request leniency for her, and they began chatting. Having led a cloistered life inside the temple, Minlay was curious about Amy’s home and town, and she listened with rapt attention. Whilst Rory joined them, adding bits of colour to Amy’s stories, David continued to stare out of the window. 

As Amy began to tell Minlay about her so-far limited travels with the Doctor, David interrupted them. “Someone’s coming.” He spun to join them at the door, the three of them straining for the first glimpse of anyone through the tiny door window. A number of seconds later, the main door opened and light from a carried torch momentarily blinded the four people who had been standing in the darkness. The guard carrying the torch held the door for another guard, who approached the door to the three prisoners’ cell.

“Come on,” he grunted, pulling back the bolt and opening the door. “Step smartly. I don’t have all night.”

Amy shrugged off the coat and handed it to David before she turned to walk out of the cell. “Where are we going?”

“Quiet, you.” He motioned toward the main door. “You’ve been summoned. That’s all I know. Now move.” As they moved past Minlay’s door, Amy flashed her a smile.


	4. Chapter 4

The march to the summons was shorter than any of them expected. They were led to a different wing of the temple than the one occupied by the cardinal’s office, into an ornate marble corridor filled with people milling about and stealing sidelong glances at the guards’ charges. Amy guessed that this place was normally not heavily occupied at this time of night, but the news of demons in the temple brought out the gawkers. She decided to amuse herself by playing the part, walking tall and casting defiant stares at anyone who looked her way. Disappointingly, Rory slunk along by her side, looking like he wanted to hide behind her, and David seemed completely distracted by his own thoughts.

The guards steered them to the far end of the corridor, before a pair of large, gilded double doors. One of them declared to the doors themselves his identity and the purpose for bringing the prisoners here, and the door guards nodded and pushed them open. The guards stepped aside and motioned for the prisoners to enter. To her side, Amy noticed David shaking the cobwebs from his head and forcing himself to become alert.

With her boys on either side of her, Amy strode into what was obviously the god Orsanal’s throne room. A deep blue carpet ran up the center of the room, between two rows of columns, to the steps that led up to the throne and the man sitting on it, dressed in heavy and lavish deep red flowing robes. There was little ornamentation in the room, the blankness of the walls and the lines of the strip of carpet leading the eye directly to the god. Beside his throne was a table piled with bowls and plates of fruit and meat, a goblet, and a bottle of wine, and a servant to provide his Holiness with whatever he wanted. Other men and women, in different colors of robes, stood nearby, probably clerics of varying rank.

The god himself was physically unimposing, a bit slight of frame but built up by bulky cloth well-designed to give him more heft and stature. His attitude, however, made up for any lack of presence his body might have had: glowering from atop his raised dais, he had an air of command that intimidated the three friends from twenty metres away. Having already decided to not allow herself to be afraid, Amy straightened and stared coolly back at the man. Rory took a step back, but David kept with her, standing at her left shoulder.

"And these are the intruders that penetrated to the inner sanctum. Approach." He voice rang through the hall. 

Amy could feel the eyes of all the others on her as she walked up the blue carpet with Rory and David, and though she felt rather exposed in her light jumper and short skirt, she forced her eyes to stay on the god. They came to the foot of the steps and halted. The god stared down at them, taking in every detail of each of them in turn, until Amy couldn't help but fidget under the scrutiny.

"Leave." Amy blinked at the god's strange command, then realised it wasn't aimed at her. He leapt up from the throne and waved a command at the clerics and servants in the room. "Leave! Now!"

As the befuddled clerics turned toward the door, perhaps the most courageous of them began, "But Your Holiness, they are -"

"Do you think I do not know what they are?" The cleric flinched at his god's words. "Leave! They cannot harm me." The cleric scurried after his brothers, through the doors being pushed shut by the door guards outside the chamber.

As soon as the doors clanged shut, the god sprinted down the steps and threw himself on his knees in front of Amy. "You've returned, my lady! At long last! I welcome you and yours as my honoured guests." 

As he took her hand and pressed it to his forehead, she looked in bewilderment at David and Rory. "Um, as much as I hate to ruin the moment, I don't think I'm who you think I am."

"Oh, my lady, you told me it might take a long while for you to return, but you have come in your ship that appears where it pleases." He jumped back to his feet. "I think you will find that everything has worked as you had expected. Not a single problem in nine hundred and forty-seven years."

Amy cocked her fists on her hips, indignant. "Do I look nine hundred and forty-seven years old?"

Orsanal waved his hands, afraid he might have insulted her. "Of course not, my lady! But that is what I would expect from a time traveller. The last time we met might have been five minutes ago to you, though I wouldn't expect to see a different face in such a short time."

"You're expecting a Time Lady, then," David asked, an eyebrow cocked in incredulity.

"Why, yes," replied Orsanal, paying attention to the two men for the first time. "And Time Lords as well, this time, I see."

"No." Amy pursed her lips in frustration. "We're not Time Lords." She shot David a silencing glance before continuing. "We travel with one, but he's not here. We're not who you think we are."

"Oh." Orsanal's shoulders slumped, his command and excitement draining away. "Then who are you? What are you doing in my temple?"

"My name is Amy. This is Rory, and David." She indicated each of them in turn. "Like we've told everyone, our ship landed here by mistake. We lost a very important item, and our ship left when we came out to get it."

"Your TARDIS."

"Not mine. The Doctor's. He's the Time Lord."

"The Doctor. And why did he leave, this Doctor?"

Amy hesitated, and David spoke up. "We don't know, but I’m certain it is connected with the item we lost. We need to get it back, and once we do, I am sure the Doctor will return and we can leave your world in peace."

"Oh, no!" Orsanal spun and climbed the steps back to his throne, perching himself on the edge and staring down at the three like a lion looking over his territory. "I never said you could leave."

Amy stepped to the very foot of the steps. “We never meant to come here. We really don’t want to cause any problems."

He waved dismissively. "Yes, yes, I'm sure that's what you say and everyone acquiesces." With sudden anger, he leaned forward, hovering over the girl below him. "You all think that we 'lesser species', as you call us, are so stupid. But I've had over nine hundred years to think about this and I can see through your duplicity. Of all the millions of worlds that must exist in this universe, why would a second Time Lord visit this one?" He stabbed a finger at the floor. "Unless he has some business to resolve with the first? You've come to take it away, haven't you?"

"Whoa, whoa, slow down, Sherlock!" Amy held up her hands to stop the situation from spiraling out of control. "We don't know a thing about what you're saying. Not about any Time Lord coming here earlier, or about taking anything away."

Orsanal frowned, then pointed at David. "He knew it was a Time Lady."

The actor shrugged. "I figured that out from what you said, about time travel and her changing her face. I don't know many races that can do that. Zygons can do the second, but not the first."

The god stared at Amy and David in disbelief. "You really don't know."

Amy shook her head. "No. Why don't you start by telling us what happened the last time a Time Lady came here?" she asked in her usual reasonable yet demanding tone.

Orsanal considered for a moment, then began. "She came here offering me assistance, to prolong my life so that I could convince my people to consider me a god. How could I refuse?"

Frowning, David waved a forefinger at the god. "No, that doesn't make any sense. Time Lords did not interfere with other worlds unless it was a threat to the Web of Time. And making you a god would definitely interfere with your world's history."

"Well, she was benefiting from the arrangement as well." Orsanal smirked. "I've never yet met a person who didn't want something in return for their generosity."

"And what exactly did she get from you?" Amy asked.

"She said I was helping her with her research, testing out her new machine, making sure it works."

"Ah!" David crossed his arms and thumbed his chin. "Let me guess. This Time Lady, was she called the Rani?"

"You _do_ know her, then?" 

"Yes. Well, no. By reputation only." David circled away as he spoke. "She was a scientist and cared only about her research, everyone else be damned. It would be just like her to drop an experimental machine on a planet and not care what happens to the people there because of it."

Amy turned back to Orsanal. "What does this device of yours do?"

"It keeps me young." He tapped a fist on his chin as he tried to remember the details. "She said that it stored what I looked like - she used a word... 'biodata' - and every year, it creates a body for me from it. Then I wake up in that body."

Rory spoke up. "Are you saying that you're a re-creation of your body from centuries ago?"

Orsanal sat up on his throne, radiating an air of proud command. "Nine hundred and fifty-one times, yes."

"Ah." David nodded as he worked through all the implications. "Your body is always young, and you get to mix in the whole rebirth and renewal thing into the myth. You let everyone watch your miraculous death and resurrection so that they can't argue against your divinity. The only hazard is somehow dying during the intervening year, so you live in the temple to minimise your risk."

"And, if the death is slow, I could be brought here immediately to transfer myself out of the dying body and establish a new legend about how I sacrificed my previous body to combat some menace to my people. I've done that a handful of times." He winked at Amy. "Those were scary, but I was pretty happy to come up with that idea."

"That is horrible!" Amy cocked her fists on her hips and stared up at the god. "Tricking your people like that, lying to them, just to be a god!"

"Amy!" David's angry warning chastised her.

"No! Someone needs to say it!" She ran up the steps and leaned in Orsanal's face. "Your people deserve the truth. They deserve to know that you've been lying to them for a thousand years, that your power is basically a parlor trick."

"Amy!" David ran up beside her and grabbed her arm. "Stop this now! You have no right to judge him or his people or to change what isn't your concern." 

Glancing at him, she jerked back, startled by his eyes that were blazing with golden fury, then she yanked her arm out of his grasp. "You don't tell me what to do. You're not the Doctor."

He drew himself up, straight and tall. "I am the closest thing to the Doctor you're going to get."

"Not good enough! I don't care what's going on in your head right now. I don't take orders from you.” Crossing her arms, she flipped her red hair back with a toss of her head. “This isn't right, and unlike you, I'm not afraid to do something about it!"

Orsanal leaned back on the throne, unconcerned and almost amused by the angry woman. "I might remind you that you are currently a guest on my world. We treat guests with the highest respect, but guests must adhere to their rules of behaviour, too. Threaten me, and I shall consider that a renunciation of my hospitality."

Amy took a step back, confused by his pronouncement. "What does that mean?"

David's eyes were still glowing. "It means that he's near to considering your opinion of his society a hostility and won't hesitate to imprison you for it, or worse."

Amy smirked at the god. "Truth hurts, doesn't it? Someone calls you out on taking advantage of your people for your own gain, and your first thought is, 'Oh, let's kill her for it!'"

"My own gain? What is it you think I've done here? You seem quite confident of your knowledge of my history after claiming you came here on accident and spending four hours in a cell." He jumped up and pointed at his throne. "Yes, I sit there. Do you know why? When the crown was put on my head, I was seventeen-year-old boy who'd been taught from the moment I could speak that I was a princeling god, but all I knew was that I felt as Cherellan as everyone else. I inherited a civil war between the faithful half of my people and the half that thought I was a fraud.”

He sat back down on his throne, his practised air of command palpable about him. "Yes, when the Rani appeared and showed me how to convince everyone that I was truly a god and knew what I was doing, I grabbed at it with both hands, and it still took another six years and six hundred thousand lives to end the conflict. And to what end? I've spent nine hundred and forty-seven years within the thirty acres this temple covers, never stepping outside even once, writing moral platitudes and issuing commandments and crossing my fingers that the world won't fall apart. Sometimes I'm successful. Sometimes I'm not. But,” and he stabbed a finger toward the door, behind which his clerics waited, “I'm lying to my followers because the alternative is chaos.”

Orsanal leaned back in his throne, his body language daring Amy to do her worst. "You want to expose me? Then, demon, you had better have a plan to perform better than I do, because I will not allow you to do anything that endangers my people."

Amy gaped at the god in horror, then rounded on David. "You knew all of this, didn't you? From your television programme, is it? Why didn't you tell me? Or do you like it when I make a fool of myself?"

David shook his head. "I don't know a thing about this planet or its people. I've no idea if he's even telling the truth, but it doesn't matter. We don't have the right to decide for them how their world should run."

"But this Time Lady did..."

"The Rani was amoral and cared only for her own work. I don't think we want to base our decisions on her example."

Amy stomped down the stairs, her fists clenched at her sides. Rory came up to comfort her, but she waved him away. "So we don't do anything, and Minlay dies?"

"Ah." Orsanal nodded. "The young cleritech. I reviewed her case and regrettably, yes, she must be executed." He clasped his hands in front of his lips in thought, like a prayer.

Amy seemed about to burst into tears, so David stepped forward, his eyes now mostly brown. "On behalf of my friend, I'd like to ask for leniency for Minlay. Amy feels responsible for her death, because if we hadn't come here, she would never have said what she did."

"Yes, please," added Rory, wringing his hands.

Orsanal smiled sadly at both men. "I'm sorry, but it is out of the question. The law states that the punishment for blasphemy is death. I've already had problems with faith before, and allowing even one example to escape punishment weakens my position."

"You rule by fear, then." Amy muttered.

"Sometimes I must, yes." Amy turned her back on him, her red hair flying.

The god leaned forward, garnering the attention of both men. "So, from what I've gathered, the Rani isn't coming back, is she?"

David frowned, and even Amy turned back to stare at the god in confusion. "How do you know that?" 

"You spoke of her in the past tense."

David nodded. "Ah. Yes, she won't be coming back."

"And you have said you won't be taking the Chamber of Rebirth away."

David shook his head and indicated himself and the other two. " _We_ won't, but we can't speak for the Doctor. I don't think he would, though."

"Then all that's left is to return your possessions to you and wait for this Doctor to reappear to remove you from our world."

David executed a sweeping bow, hoping to hide his anxiety. The prospect of getting the watch back dropped a heavy rock into his stomach. "Yes. We'll be on our way and no threat to you."

Reaching behind him, Orsanal tugged on an ribbon hanging down the back of the throne. A few heartbeats later, the main doors opened and a young man in robes hurried in, flinging himself to his knees and prostrating himself in front of his deity. "Your Holiness."

With an airy flip of his head, the god waved a dismissive hand at his servant. "Bring me Bishop Tullet, child. Tell him to bring my _honoured_ guests' possessions with him."

"Yes, Your Holiness." Casting a terrified glance at the three visitors, the man jumped up and scurried away.

Amy crossed her arms, watching the man retreat. As soon as the door closed, she smirked. "You have the attitude down pat."

Orsanal shrugged. "I've had nearly a millennium to practice. Despite the lack of mercy you have pointed out, I'm a benevolent god, here to make sure they all work together nicely. I've found I don't need to scare them much." He leaned back casually in his throne. "Though it's nice to be able to talk to someone without having to talk down to them. I really am very tired of all of this, you know."

"Even being a god is hard work," Rory quipped.

"No. Living for centuries. Calculating everything you do to benefit everyone else except yourself. Having everyone kneel and worship and adore, but not having a single person to simply _talk_ to." He jumped up from his seat and, trotting down the steps, paced about the room, his hard boots clicking on the marble tile. "I have a list, you know. I keep it by my bed. Every day, when I wake up, I read through it to remind myself why I'm doing this. It's the only way to keep from going spare and throwing myself from the high tower."

Amy coughed, and he stopped to look at her. "Why don't you pass it on? Declare that you're returning to the heavens and appoint a god-king again? We could take you wherever you want to go."

David murmured, "Amy," with a warning in his voice.

"No, look at him." She stepped to the god and placed a hand on his shoulder. "He's just a man. Anyone would get tired of this life after nine centuries, and we can help him."

"That's a change of heart for you."

"You said we can't change his world, but we can try to help one man, can't we?"

Orsanal covered Amy's hand with his. "You see, that's the first time in nine hundred years that anyone has touched me for any reason other than either ablutions or concubines, and the concubines view me only as their ticket to a comfortable life. Anyone else would get their hand cut off." He patted her hand. "I've thought about doing what you suggested. A god-king isn't enough anymore. After centuries of a god living among them, they won't have enough faith in a half-god. Why do you think I produce children? I'm trying to find one who can take my place in the Chamber of Rebirth, but I haven't found one that I think will be able to handle this. I try to keep my hopes up."

"You should do what's right for you."

"This _is_ what's right for me. There are far more important things here than just my comfort." He spun and climbed the steps up to his throne, taking the time to arrange his robes before sitting down with a regal demeanour. Rory stepped to his disappointed fiancee's side and gave her a brief shoulder-hug.

The deep peal of a bell sounded through the room, and Orsanal waved a hand at the other three to move to the side of the blue carpet before calling in an imperious tone, "Enter!" 

The doors opened and the artefact expert from Cardinal Deretyr's office hurried in. His embarrassment and contrition was obvious and he kept his eyes trained on the carpet beneath his feet, avoiding the gazes of his god and the visitors. At the foot of the dais, he knelt before the throne. "Your Holiness, I have come when you called."

"Thank you, Tullet. I believe you have two items that belong to my guests. I would bid you to return them."

"Yes, Your Holiness." Standing up, he approached Rory first, offering the sonic screwdriver to him. "I believe this is yours. Please forgive our presumption in removing it from your person."

Rory accepted the device and handed it over to David. As he looked it over then stowed it in his inner breast pocket, Rory replied, "Actually, this is his. I was just holding it for him." He glanced at Amy, who jerked her head at the bishop with a "come on, do it!" look. "Oh, er, you are forgiven. It was understandable."

"You are most gracious." He bobbed a bow, then moved on to David. "And this is yours." Trembling, he held out the watch. "I apologize for the damage to the artefact. Is there any way that I can recompense you for it?"

David's voice was tight as he replied. "No, there isn't. I forgive you, too." He choked out the last words as he took the watch from the man's hand and inspected it as the bishop bowed and retreated to the other side of the carpet. Held closed by cords twined and knotted around it, the casing was badly warped, allowing him a peek at the insides. The crystal was gone, and he could see the deep dent on the face where the pommel of the sword had landed. The power in the device thrummed through his fingers, but it stuttered and jerked. It felt wrong, broken, just like he did, but his mind connected with the consciousness inside the watch and he knew the device still worked.

Rory peered at his friend. "Is it okay?"

David nodded. "It's fine." Sudden fear widened his eyes, and he glanced Rory and Amy in turn, then swallowed. "I should, er, I should get this over with right now, before anything else goes wrong." He bit his lip. "So, er, goodbye, I guess." He turned the watch over in his hand to find the right knot to start undoing.

As the bishop murmured a confused "What?" Rory grasped Amy's hand to pull her toward him and put his arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him, unable to take her eyes, which were starting to fill with tears, off David. Orsanal sat on his throne, staring at the unusual scene, keeping his regal pose but not bothering to hide his confusion, as his only servant in the room was not watching him.

David fumbled with the cord and his unwilling fingers, feeling suddenly thick and unresponsive, had made little headway against the knot when he paused, looking up as if he heard something. A tiny smile graced his face as he ran his tongue over his upper lip. "And there he is."

Rory frowned. "Who?"

"The Doctor. He's here."

"How would you know that?"

David's eyes flicked about sightlessly. "I can hear him in my mind. He just arrived. I think... I think I can hear the TARDIS, too. I think that's what that is."

Hope sprung into Amy's eyes and she dashed forward, covering David's hands on the watch with one of hers. "Wait until the Doctor gets here, please? You know he should be here for this."

Her touch pulled David back to the present. "He doesn't need to be here. And I'd really like him not to see what I've done to his body."

"He'll know anyway. Come on, it's just a few minutes." She turned to Orsanal. "Can you... er, Your Holiness, can you get the Doctor here? As fast as possible?"

With the attention back on him, Orsanal stifled his curiosity and drew himself up. "Certainly. Tullet, find my new guest with all speed. He should have appeared somewhere on the grounds. Escort him here at once. Go. Go!" He waved imperiously.

"At once, Your Holiness." The bishop sprinted out with more alacrity than Amy thought a scholar would have.

As soon as the door closed, Orsanal indulged his curiosity. "So, what is the importance of this object? What exactly is going on?"

Pulling his hand away from Amy's, David held the device tightly in his fist and strode away. "It's hard to explain. It... it holds my life force. Who I am now is not who I'm supposed to be. The damage to it gave me half of it, and I need to restore the other half." The explanation was hardly useful and Orsanal frowned, more confused than he had been before he had asked.

"Wait for the Doctor, David," Amy murmured.

"Okay. Might as well." David was glad for an excuse to delay the inevitable. Clasping the watch in both hands, he stood with his head bowed and his shoulders curved, aware that all eyes were on him.

"We're here for you, David." Rory's deep but quiet voice rumbled through the chamber.

"Yeah. I know." He sniffed. "You know, I was ready then. I'm not ready now. I don't know why."

"It doesn't have to be now." Amy's voice quivered with sympathy. "Choose when it’s right for you."

"No. It has to be as soon as possible. I can't risk this again. I think that's the scariest part: the destruction that could be caused by one little thing I do."

The chime echoed through the chamber, and when the doors opened upon the deity calling for entrance, the Time Lord in his tweed jacket and red bow tie bounded in, his hands twitching on either side of his wide jaw. He was tailed by a very bewildered Bishop Tullet.

"Ah, Amy, Rory, David!" The Doctor twirled on his heel to take in the room. "Just as I expected! You get a few hours to meet and greet, and here you are, hobnobbing with the king. I shouldn't have worked so hard to come back for you."

"His Holiness is no mere king!" the bishop protested before anyone else could reply. "He is divinity walking the land! You will bow before him and show your respect!"

"Bishop Tullet." Orsanal's tone was condescending. "Please withdraw. I would speak with my visitors alone."

The bishop's jaw dropped. "You would tolerate such insolence, Your Holiness?"

"I will tolerate what I choose. Please withdraw." His polite words floated on an undercurrent of steel. Tullet knew immediately to drop the matter and, making his apologies, quit the room, closing the doors behind him.

The Doctor continued as if he had been uninterrupted. "A god, are you? Pleased to make your acquaintance. Never met a god before. Well, not one that wasn't trying to kill me, that is."

"This is Orsanal, god of the Cherellans." The god watched David with a detached air, wondering how he'd be represented to the Doctor. "He's actually a Cherellan himself, but he uses a device that replicates him and transfers him to the new body to stay young and impress his people with his power of rebirth and renewal. Nine hundred years now, he's been on the throne, directing his people."

Impressed, the Doctor looked him up and down. "Ah, a fine trick. But that's a bit beyond Cherel's technology level."

Orsanal rose from his throne and stepped down to the level of the others. "It was given to me by one of your fellows.”

“A Time Lord? We never created such a device. We’ve never needed one.” A light dawned on his face. “Oh. The Rani, I’d wager.” At David’s nod, the Doctor rolled his eyes. “Part of her experiments in regeneration, I’m sure. She never could leave well enough alone.”

“I thought you had come to take it back."

"No, no!" The Doctor spun away to take in the room. "I don't see the point. What's done is done, and taking it away will cause more trouble than it's worth. Consider it a gift for taking good care of my friends."

"We spent most of our time here in a dungeon, Doctor," Amy interjected.

"A pleasant one, at least," commented David. He jerked a thumb at the Doctor. "You'll need to get used to that if you want to travel with him." He turned to the Time Lord. "Doctor, if you don't mind, I think we need to go. I've, er, things to do that shouldn't be delayed any longer."

The Doctor clapped his hands together. "No."

David was stunned. "I'm sorry?"

"Just what I said. No. We're not leaving. We need to finish this, here and now." He jabbed a finger at the floor.

David opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He blinked, then, inhaling, he nodded. "Okay. If that's what you want." He began fiddling with the cords binding the watch. "The knots are tight. Maybe if I had a pocketknife."

The Doctor stepped over and grabbed the watch from David's hands. "That's not what I meant. I figured out why you're here, and you need to know, so you can make your choice."

David's eyes burned with sudden anger, and he ground out his words through gritted teeth. "I don't have a choice. I have to die so that you can live. Don't try to give me false hope, because I don't think I can take any more of this."

"It's not false hope. You have a choice to make now. But it won't be an easy one." He brandished the watch. "You were about to open this when the TARDIS took off and threw you about the console platform. Didn't you wonder why?" David continued to glare at the Doctor, so he continued. "It's because she didn't want you to go and took matters into her own hands. If she had hands, that is. She shook you hard enough to make sure you lost your hold on the watch, so you couldn't open it. Each time you got close to it, she bumped it away." Tossing the watch back to David, he turned to grin at the surprised looks on Amy's and Rory's faces. "It took me quite a while to figure that one out. She didn't want to admit it. Even falsified some of the readings so that I'd think we'd hit an anomaly."

David gaped at the Doctor, unable to believe what he had just heard. He finally murmured, "The TARDIS didn't want me to go?"

"Yes. She likes you." The Doctor whirled around the room again as he spoke. "She doesn't usually interfere in anyone's life, you know. Come to think of it, I don't remember her doing that before." He stopped in front of David and poked him in the chest. "You must be very special."

David threw his hands up in futility. "But what good did that do? Prolong my life a few more hours so I could spend it in a prison cell?"

"That, she didn't have any control over. But she did send you exactly where you needed to be."

"Here? A backward theocratic planet?" He turned to Orsanal. "No offense intended."

Watching the scene in confusion, the god was taken aback at the sudden address. "Oh, er, none taken."

"No." The Doctor stepped in front of David and looked him in the eye, his expression grim. "The one place in the universe with the ability to replicate a body and transfer a consciousness."

Amy gasped. As the idea penetrated, a mixture of hope and disbelief started to spread across David's face. "Oh. Oh! But I'm not… I can’t… Can I?"

“I don’t see why not. Create a copy of the body for you and I keep the original.” The Doctor glanced at the watch in David’s hand, then eyed the actor, waiting for him to make the second connection.

David’s eyes widened and he began to smile, then his jaw dropped in horror. “ _This_ body for me? But I don’t even know what I am. I’m not…” The word caught in this throat.

"Right. You're not. Let's figure out what you are." The Doctor pulled his sonic screwdriver from his pocket and flicked the end open. David's nervousness was evident in the way he held himself perfectly straight and still as the Doctor scanned him then checked the readings. "Oh, very Time Lord-y. The hearts and things, you've already noticed. But you've still a substantial amount of human in you, especially in the brain. I don't know how that will affect the way you think."

David's eyes followed the Doctor as the Time Lord circled him, looking him up and down. "I think I've seen that already. Sometimes I feel like I'm two people in my head, arguing with myself."

"You're more like me than I thought, then. Time-sensitive, of course. Psychic, but we already knew that." He peered at David. "There are some irregularities that are neither human nor Time Lord, probably resulting from the aborted reversion. But you-wise, you don't seem to be much different than you were. You got a bit of me, the last me, but not much," he stated as he tapped his own temple.

David shrugged. "I think so, but I can't tell. I don’t think I’m different, but it doesn't help that I've had to act and think like you for three years.

The Doctor tapped the tip of his screwdriver on his chin. "On a quick scan, I'd say seventy-five percent Time Lord, probably more."

"But what about my eyes? Why are my eyes glowing? That's not normal for human or Gallifreyan."

"You've already figured that out, I'm sure." He popped the end of the screwdriver closed with the palm of his hand.

"I think I have," David murmured, more to himself than anything.

"What is it, do you think?"

"Well, it's golden. That's the clue, isn't it?" He wrapped his arms around himself. "The one thing that broke when the reversion was aborted was regeneration."

"Yes. I believe that won't work for you.” He waved a hand at David’s body. “You’ve got the artron energy; you can feel it, can’t you, the life churning within you? Perhaps you can heal if you get injured, but the system is broken and you can’t regenerate. And there’s that bit of energy visible in your eyes. The light will fade, mostlly. You should be able to learn to control it."

David nodded. "That's what I thought." He began to pace around the room. "So, I'm mostly Time Lord."

“Yes. And that’s your choice. If my lord Orsanal would be so kind as to allow us use of his replication device,” and he nodded in his direction, “we could create a new body for you whilst I return to this one.”

The god gestured graciously. “Of course. My lord Doctor is welcome to anything I can provide.”

The Doctor nodded a thanks, then continued. “Or you can proceed with opening the watch, and the consequences of that, you already know.”

David stopped dead and stared at the watch in his hand. “I don’t have to die. But if I don’t…” He swallowed. “I’ll be this… whatever I am. And…” He looked up at the Doctor with haunted eyes. “I’ll be this for a very long time, won’t I?”

“You’re a Time Lord, give or take a few details. You know how long we live.”

“More than a thousand years.” It was barely a whisper. He glanced at Orsanal, the nine-hundred-year-old god, sitting like a gilded statue on his throne, then at Rory and Amy, the young couple holding hands as they stared back at him. Suddenly he couldn't look at anyone, and gazed off into a corner. “I don’t want to live for a thousand years. I know how this goes. Everyone leaves, everyone dies, over and over again, and I'll have to live on. I just want a normal life, simple and finite.” He turned to the Doctor. “Can’t you fix me? I don’t know, use the chameleon arch to pull the Time Lord from me. Or you can come back and use the arch again to bring me back.”

The Doctor glanced at the watch. “That device is too damaged. I have no idea what might happen if we tried to use it to reverse what's happened to you. And using a new arch to bring you back again from me?" He faltered. "I don't know if that would work. Would it bring you back, or create another version of you? It's up to you, if you want to take that chance."

Wrapping his arms tightly around himself, David scrubbed his hand down around his jaw, his eyes wide and horrified. "It's either this or die? I just want to be me! I don't want to be a Time Lord. But..." With his thumb and forefinger, he wiped away the sparkling golden tears that had started spilling down his cheeks. "I don't have a choice. I can't choose to kill myself. I just can't do that, not when there's any other way." Burying his face in his hands, he panted, his breath stuttering in his chest. Then he straightened and breathed deep, gathering his strength. When he finally looked up, his eyes shone golden. "I can't choose to die. I'll... I'll get used to this, I suppose." The glow faded, wisps of energy floating away.

The Doctor nodded. "You will. More than that. You'll do great things. You already have, you know." He clapped his hands. "But come on! We've work to do. My lord Orsanal, may we use your replication device now?"

"Certainly." He reached behind him for the bell-pull. "Let me summon the cleritechs to operate it."

Waving his hands in negation, the Doctor jumped forward. "No, no. Don't do that. They don't need to see that the device works on other people. I can probably operate the instrument. The Rani never did try to obscure her control panels."

"I appreciate your concern for my little charade." He hopped down from throne and circled to the tapestry that hung behind it. Lifting it, he revealed a wooden door. "In here. We'll take the back ways."


	5. Chapter 5

The Chamber of Rebirth was by far the gaudiest room in the temple that the TARDIS crew had seen, designed to impress the congregation at their god's annual renewal. The marble walls were covered with gilded scrollwork that drew the eye to the two sterile white pods, connected by a thick cable, that stood inclined at the head of the room. After a brief inspection, the Doctor located the technicians' chamber, hidden behind a panel, where the cleritechs operated the controls for the device. Whilst the rest looked around, too afraid to touch anything, he checked through the mechanics and electronics, both visually and with the sonic screwdriver, ending with an impressed whistle.

"Tip-top shape, even after all this time." His fingers seemed to twitch in anticipation of working with the machine. "For all her faults and strange ways, the Rani always did the best work in designing and building her experiments."

David stood in the center of the main room, gazing at the two pods. Clutching the watch in one hand, he played with an ear with the other, jittering with nervous energy. "I suppose I do the classic sci-fi thing and lie in that thing there."

The Doctor hopped back through the opening and twirled between the two pods. "Yes. The new body is created here, and then your mind is transferred over. We'll want to open the watch just as the mind is moved. Too early, and you'll get part of me, which I expect you don't want. But we don't want the old body to die either. With the right timing, I should retain you as I return."

Amy gaped. "You don't know?"

"No. This history is still being created. I have no idea what happened until it happens, and then I remember it from both my viewpoint and David's." He massaged his temples with two fingers on each hand. "Disorientating, but fascinating!"

"Then it must have worked, because the Doctor's here," Rory commented, in an encouraging tone towards David. The Doctor threw a glance at David.

"No," David replied. "He's still a product of the alternate path. This could still fail, cementing the paradox and tearing reality apart."

Orsanal, who had been standing off to the side, not wanting to get in the way of something that was obviously important, strode up to the Doctor. "Wait. Are you saying that what you're doing is endangering my world?'

"Your world has been in danger since the moment they first arrived here."

Drawing himself up, the god planted himself firmly, his arms crossed. "I cannot let you do this. I am responsible for the lives of eight hundred million people! Go and destroy someone else's world!"

David sagged as the realisation of how many lives were at stake hit him. "He's right. I can't do that. I can't be responsible for anyone else's death. I've done that before, and I can't do it again." He started to tear at the cords of the watch when the Doctor dashed to him and yanked it out of his hands again.

"Stop that." He whirled back towards the god. "It doesn't matter. Even if we had anywhere else we could go to do this," and he gestured at the pods, "we've been here and any paradox will be just as destructive to your planet. The timelines have changed so much that if David opens that watch, it may still result in a paradox. There's no guarantee, no matter which path we take. So let's choose the path that will save one more life."

Orsanal glared at the Doctor, clenching his fists at his sides. They locked eyes for a full ten seconds before Orsanal whirled away. “Do whatever you want," he grunted. "It’s on your head.”

“It always is.” The Doctor trotted over to the left pod and pulled open its clear canopy. “This one, David. You get in here.” 

David swallowed and nodded. He slipped off his long coat and tossed it to Rory. “Take care of that. He won’t be happy if anything happens to it.” Straightening his tie and smoothing down his blue jacket, he walked to the pod and stepped into the narrow chamber, lying back against the smooth plastic. “This is not comfortable.”

“No. I reckon it isn’t.” The Doctor untied the cords on the pocketwatch and, holding it tightly closed, beckoned Amy over. Giving her the device, he held her hands over it to keep it closed. “I’ll tell you when to open it, but watch just the same. When the second body is fully formed, open it up. Not before, not after.”

“Got it.” She stepped back so that she could keep an eye on both pods at the same time.

He turned back to David. “Okay. It’s time.” He closed and secured the canopy, then ducked through the opening into the control room. David closed his eyes, his breathing fast and shallow.

Emanating from the tiny room, the Doctor’s voice rang loud and harsh. “I’m starting this… now!”

For a moment, nothing happened. Then David began to tremble, screwing his face to keep his eyes tightly closed. A golden cloud of energy grew in the other pod, starting where the connection cable was attached, filling the chamber. The energy coalesced into a humanoid form, which slowly condensed into flesh, a copy of the man in the first pod. A final puff of energy from the cable connection sank into the new body and its eyes popped open, stunned and disorientated but blazing gold.

As the Doctor called, "Amy, now!" from the hidden room, Amy unclasped her hands and the watch fell open in her palms, disgorging a burst of gold that rushed for the body in the first pod. As soon as it absorbed in, the man screamed and writhed, clawing at the smooth plastic under his hands, but the agony was short-lived, abating in less than ten seconds, and he lay there under the glass, panting.

“Ohhh…” The man in the second pod groaned and shifted, then looked down at himself as the shine in his eyes shimmered away. Spots of colour rose on his cheeks. “Oh. Naked. I should have known.” 

Rory dashed forward and, pulling open the canopy, offered him the coat. “Here.” As the man draped it over himself, the nurse inquired very softly, “David?”

“Yeah. Yeah. That’s me.” He gave his friend a tentative smile. “I’m still alive.”

Meanwhile, Amy opened the canopy of the first pod and stood back, staring at the dazed man lying there. “Doctor?”

The man’s eyes focused on her and he grinned. “Yes. I’m the Doctor. A pleasure to meet you, Amy Pond.” He leapt out of the pod and stumbled, catching Amy’s shoulder to steady himself. “Oo. Sorry. Not quite all there yet. Hang on just a mo'.” Swaying a little, he paused to collect himself.

As David sat up in his pod, the Doctor in tweed bounded out of the control room. “It worked! And no emerging paradox. Excellent!” He clapped and rubbed his hands together.

“Think you can stand?” Rory offered a hand to David, who nodded. Grasping it, he gingerly stepped out of the pod, then turned his back on the group to put on the coat and button it up.

"I think I'm okay." He turned to Rory and, patting down his own body, inspected himself, both internally and externally. "I don't feel any different. Well, I feel like I did a minute ago, whatever I was then." His tongue flicked over his lips.

"Extraordinary," Orsanal murmured, his gazes flicking between the two identical men.

The quiet word caught their attention, and David's and the Doctor's eyes met for the first time. As David stood stunned and somewhat horrified, the Doctor's face broke into a delighted grin. "Oh yes!" he shouted, causing Amy to jump in shock, and punched the air. "Simply brilliant! I knew there was a way! I knew we could give you your life!" He bounded forward and, bowing, offered his hand to his doppelganger. "I am honoured to finally meet you properly, David."

David mechanically shook the Doctor's hand and opened his mouth to return the greeting, but no words came out. He snapped it shut with a pop, then coughed. "I'm sorry. This is mental beyond belief."

"Oh yes, it is. But you're alive." The Doctor winked. "It'll all get better from here. You're going to be magnificent!"

. _ . _ . _ . _ .

Taking leave of Orsanal and Cherel was more difficult than David would have thought. After being reassured that nothing untoward had happened and that the planet was safe, the god couldn't get rid of them fast enough, but the Doctor - the younger one - insisted on checking the replication device one last time. He wanted to ensure that they had not damaged it in any way, so that it would last as long as possible, and his older self followed him around, "to supervise", as he described it. In the meantime, Rory hovered by David, as if afraid the man would collapse at any moment. At first, David stood quietly, staring either at nothing or his own hands, but presently, the chaos of the two Time Lords, bickering back and forth, drew his attention, and they watched the whirlwind of activity in bemusement. Orsanal quietly stood in a corner, clearly unsure if he should have let them near his precious chamber in the first place, and Amy followed the Doctors around, fascinated by both her own friend and this new version of him.

As soon as the two of them declared the device to be in perfect condition, Orsanal began herding them back to the TARDIS. Despite the wondering stares from his subjects, who weren't used to seeing their god wandering the halls of his temple, he escorted them personally and refused all expressions of gratitude and promises of reparations for his trouble. It wasn't long until he had packed all five of them into their strange blue box, and he pulled the door closed himself.

With his hands jammed in his pockets, the younger Doctor spun as he wandered toward the main console, taking in the unfamiliar layout of the control room. "You've changed up the place. Lovely!" He trotted up the stairs to inspect the new console.

The Doctor stopped in his tracks and stared at his predecessor. "You actually approve?"

"Well," he drawled, "I wouldn't choose this theme myself, but what's not to like? Nice flashy metal and glass everywhere. Trying to impress someone, I'd say." Winking at Amy, he moved to the old-fashioned typewriter and began punching keys. His successor moved up next to him to start prepping the other systems for take-off.

"So," Amy began, "what now? Where are we going?"

"To my TARDIS," the pinstriped Doctor replied as he reached across his successor to flip a blue toggle. "I've long needed to get on with my life, and this old girl will be happy to have that paradox circuit removed, at long last."

"What about me?" David wrapped the coat tighter around himself. "Where do I fit into all of this now?"

Leaving the console to his predecessor, the Doctor leapt down the stairs in front of David. "That's up to you now, isn't it? You've got the universe to choose from. What do you want?"

"I don't know. I can't stay on Earth, can I?"

"Why not? If that's where you want to be." The TARDIS shuddered as the time rotor began to pump, and everyone grabbed for something to steady themselves.

David thought about it. "No. It's not that. I mean, I'd like to stay there, but, I just don't belong there anymore. What would I do there? I'm not even from this Earth in the first place." He threw up his hands in frustration. "But it's not like I have any way of choosing anything else. I don't know anything about this universe!"

"You know a lot more about this universe than any other human," Amy pointed out.

"That counts for precious little. My knowledge comes from a programme on the telly. That's hardly scientific." He shrugged. "But I'm a Time Lord now, well, mostly. The most ignorant and helpless Time Lord ever."

The Doctor grasped David's shoulders. "Then learn. You want to truly be what you've become? I can teach you. I don't exactly have a curriculum, but I have a bit of experience in the field. Plenty of room for you here, and whilst we're doing it, we can start growing a TARDIS for you."

Gasping, David stepped back in astonishment. "What?"

"Of course. Your study and the cultivation of the TARDIS will take a while, years at least, but I am _not_ having you live here forever. You'd cramp my style. So, what do you say?"

With an eager grin, David opened his mouth to accept the Doctor's offer, but a voice cut through the discussion before he could speak.

"No."

All eyes turned to the Doctor up on the console dais. 

"That's not the best plan." He trotted down the stairs to join the other two Time Lords. "You, Doctor, are already on your own path and have your companions to look after. I, on the other hand, am nearing the end of my song and my TARDIS is empty.” He turned and addressed David directly. “If anyone should undertake the task of training you, it should be me."

The Doctor nodded his approval of the other Doctor's reasoning. "A good point. But it would mean maintaining the paradox. This never happened to you.”

“Then we’ll have to be extra careful.” He grinned at David. “Two Time Lords keeping an eye on it! What could go wrong?”

David slapped a hand over his eyes. “You're just inviting trouble.”

The bowtie Doctor shrugged. “It’s dangerous but it can be done, and a better path than what I’m offering, but I don't want to limit David's options." He turned to the actor. "You're welcome to choose to come with either of us, or find your own way, if you want. What do you think?"

David tugged on his ear as he looked first at the Doctor, then at his doppelganger, and then at Amy and Rory. "I... I've enjoyed the time I've had here, and you three are the only people I know in this universe. But," and he jerked a thumb at the pinstriped Doctor, "he's right. I shouldn't get in your way. On the other hand..." He turned to younger Doctor. "It would just be weird, seeing you every day."

"Nah! It won't be so bad.” The Doctor bobbed his head up and down. “I mean, yes, we've been the same person, shared our minds and all that, but now, well, think of us as twin brothers. I'd like that. I haven't had a brother for a long time. Twins! It's perfectly natural. Nothing weird about that."

"There's everything weird about it! I came _from_ you. You're not my brother. You're more like my dad." Horrified by his own words, he held up his hands like a shield between the two of them. "No, no, no! You are in no way my father!" 

"No, I'm not your father. But I can be everything else. Brother, teacher, mentor, friend." He held out his hand. "Come with me."

David glanced at it and an amused smile curved his lips. "It's strange, being on the other side of that." He stepped forward and took the proffered hand. "Gladly."

The time rotor began to slow and the Doctor grasped David’s shoulder. "Sounds like we're arrived home."

"I'll go get my things. I don't have much, but I'd like to start out my new life wearing some decent clothes at least." Grinning at the group, David turned and disappeared into the corridor.


	6. Chapter 6

With her very limited role in David's final episode of _Doctor Who_ \- in fact, she was only in a few scenes - Catherine had only planned to stay in Cardiff for a few days, for rehearsals and filming. Thus, it surprised her when David sought her out and invited her for dinner at his house. She'd been there once before, at a small party he'd thrown at the end of the Series Four filming, but while they'd enjoyed a good working relationship and were hoping to work together in the future, they hadn't spent much time with each other outside of the studio. That was mostly due to time constraints, both from the long days of filming and her devotion to her family when she had the time to spare.

The previous time she'd been at the house, she had been surprised, though pleased, at its austerity. It was sparsely but comfortably furnished, and she should have known that David was not one for flashy displays. He did have a state-of-the-art stereo system, which was only to be expected of a self-professed record geek. He was likely to have some of the best music playing throughout the evening and she was looking forward to that.

Knocking on the door, she only waited a few seconds before the familiar Scottish brogue called from deep inside, telling her that he was hung up but would be there soon. After a minute, the door opened to reveal the thin pole of a man, wrapped tightly in an apron and blotting his hands dry with a towel. "Catherine!" He grinned, his eyes gleaming, and he stepped forward to give her a warm hug. 

"Who else?" She squeezed him tight.

"Come on in." He held the door for her as she stepped in. "Dinner's almost ready. You can drop your things in there, and then join me in the kitchen?"

"Right." He dashed off down the hallway while she turned into the sitting room. It was not exactly as she remembered it: this time, dominating the room was a full-sized TARDIS prop. Dropping her purse on an ottoman, she rolled her eyes and shook her head as she smiled at the tastes of her geeky friend, then made her way to the kitchen.

"You've got a great big bloody blue box in your living room," she announced as she entered. David was ladling sauce onto the pasta on each of the two plates on the counter. 

"Yeah. Kinda takes up too much space." He dropped the pot back on the stove, then shoveled fillets of fish from a pan. "I hope you don't mind broccoli. I was hoping for beans and cauliflower, but they just didn't look that good at the market."

"Broccoli's fine. I like broccoli." She leaned on the counter. "Maybe you should put that TARDIS out back. It really makes that room look tiny."

Slipping off the apron and hooking it on the refrigerator handle, he scooped up the two plates to take them to the dining table, calling back over his shoulder. "Nah. It won't be there much longer." Returning to the kitchen, he pulled a bottle of white wine from the fridge. "Wine? Otherwise, I've got juice and milk. No beer, but a bottle of single-malt scotch my brother sent me, if you like."

"Wine's fine. Where're the glasses?" He indicated the correct cupboard, and she pulled down two wine glasses and followed him to the dining room. "It smells delicious!"

"I hope it's good," he commented as he poured two glasses of wine. "I don't get the chance to cook much. Thanks for joining me."

"Thanks for the invite." She picked up her glass and raised it in toast. "To good times and great friends."

"Aye." They clinked glasses and took a sip each. "I really wanted the company. And it's been what, a year since the end of last season’s filming?" He picked up his fork and cut into his fish.

"Oh my. This is wonderful!" Catherine dabbed her lips with her napkin. "'I hope it's good', pfah! You never think what you do is any good, do you?"

David shook his head, smiling. "I just follow the recipe. It's all right there on the paper."

"Well, then, your paper's a good cook." She winked.

As they ate, they chatted about current work and reminisced about their past season. Catherine filled him in on her current ventures and told stories about her daughter, now that she was old enough to go to school. Strangely, he didn't talk much about his life outside of work, and she was intrigued enough about one thing she knew about his career that she decided to ask him about it.

"So, tell me if I'm prying too much here, but I was wondering, why did you back out of the RSC's _Hamlet_? I mean, it must have been quite a shock for them, losing their leading man after all of the performances were sold out." His expression didn't change, and she knew he'd been expecting the question.

He placed his fork on the plate and sipped his wine before replying. "Honestly? There's just other things I need to do in my life right now. _Hamlet_ would have tied me down for way too long."

"Tied you down?" Catherine frowned and studied his face. It wasn't like David to be depressive about his life. That was her attitude, not his; he was always the enthusiastic optimist. "But you're not contracted for any other work that I've heard, are you?"

"No, not really."

"Then what is this secret plan of yours?"

Licking his lips in that absent way he had, he stared at the remnants of his pasta. "Well, it's not secret, per se. Though I suppose no one really knows. I... I'm just taking a break, is all. Going away, trying new things." Glancing up, he frowned as he noticed his guest staring at him. "What?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. I just never noticed how golden your eyes are. I always thought they were brown."

He shrugged. "They _are_ brown. Must be the light in here."

"I guess. So what are these new things?"

He shrugged and stared anywhere except at her. "I don't know."

He sounded so lost, so scared, and Catherine's heart sank into her stomach. She reached over the table and covered his hand with hers. He was quite cold to the touch. "David. What's wrong?"

He sprang from his seat and strode into the living room, muttering, "I knew I shouldn't have done this! I knew I wouldn't be able to take it!"

Catherine followed him. "You shouldn't have done what?"

David was pacing around the room, spinning frequently as his long legs chewed up the floor space that was limited by the big police box, and his guest stood in the door to stay out of his way. The actor scrubbed his hand down around his jaw. "I just wanted a normal night, with a good friend. I just wanted to say goodbye to one person."

The desperation in his voice terrified her. "Goodbye? It sounds like you're planning to kill yourself."

He came to an abrupt halt and turned to face her. "Oh, no. Nothing like like that. Quite the opposite, in fact."

"You're starting to worry me. What's wrong?"

He snorted, shaking his head. "You're going to think I'm barmy."

"I already do, so that's nothing new."

"No, really barmy. Lock-him-away-in-a-funny-jacket barmy."

"Got one in the car for you."

He inhaled deep into his chest as he tugged on his ear. "I really shouldn't be telling anyone this."

Coming to a conclusion about what was bothering him, based on his reticence to talk about it, Catherine closed the distance between them and squeezed his arm. She tried to catch his gaze, but he avoided looking at her. "David. You know I've been where you are. Maybe you really don't want to leave _Doctor Who_ , or maybe you're scared about where your career is going to go next. Maybe you feel like you've hit your peak and you won't ever do anything better. I've been there. Let me help. You need someone, before you destroy yourself and everything you've worked so hard for." His eyes met hers, and she swore the golden colour glowed brighter as he made up his mind.

"All right. But you'd better ready your mobile to call the psych ward." He threw his hands up in mock realisation. "I'm probably still in a coma from that accident, aren't I?"

"Accident? What accident?"

Inhaling deep again, he set his jaw. "The reason I quit _Hamlet_ , and the reason I have no more roles lined up..." His tone was serious and forced. "It's because I'm going away. I'm not coming back. I can't."

"What? Where are you going?"

He flung a hand up towards the ceiling. "Out there. Everywhere. Catherine, I'm leaving in the TARDIS, leaving this universe, even."

Her eyes were drawn to the blue box behind him, huge and menacing in this small room, and she unconsciously stepped back, away from the nonsense her friend was telling her. She'd expected anything but this. David was having delusions that his television role was real? It was too ridiculous to believe. He'd always loved the programme, and was always the most enthusiastic person on set, but he was also firmly entrenched in reality and serious about his art. He never once doubted that the Doctor was simply a character he created and brought to life. David wasn't one to play pranks like this, but that was the only reasonable explanation that came to mind. "You're having a go at me, aren't you? See how much ol' Catherine will believe."

He shook his head. "I'm completely serious." He jerked a thumb at the blue box. "This is the real thing."

She barked a laugh. "There is no such thing as a TARDIS, David. That's a made-up thing in a programme on the telly." The absurdity of arguing the point hit her, and she refused to get into such a discussion. "Come on. You're a fantastic actor, the best in the world, but you're not going to be able to convince me that you think all that nonsense is real."

"I don't expect you to believe anything without proof, but here it is, right in front of you." Fishing a key out of his pocket, he spun to the box and unlocked the door. He pushed it open, the slow creak of its hinges eerily familiar. "Take a look."

Crossing her arms, Catherine pursed her lips, trying not to get angry. He was trying to take the joke too far, after she'd tried so hard to show him love and support. She ignored the police box and stared at him. "This is not funny, David."

He sighed. "Just take a look. Here." 

He pushed the second door open, and the warm light spilling out of the wide opening finally caught her attention. She stepped toward the box and peered into it. "Oh my god," she murmured. "Where did you get this? How does it do that? It looks real!"

"It _is_ real, Catherine. This is the Doctor's actual TARDIS."

"That's..." Words failed her as she stared into the box. "No. I'm dreaming."

"You're not. Step inside. You'll see."

Breathing hard a few times to work up her courage, she approached the box and stepped over the threshold into the vast chamber that housed the main console. She stared around at the domed space, at once so familiar, as she had worked in its duplicate for the better part of a year, and yet so strange since it didn't end where the rest of the studio should have begun. A subtle hum pervaded her senses, giving her the distinct feeling that she was being welcomed and watched at the same time. Panic and confusion flooded her mind and she ran back out. "No no no no no!" That idiot man was grinning at her reaction.

"I told you it was real."

She placed a hand on her chest to calm herself. "How? Where'd it come from?"

"From another universe. Where the Doctor and all the monsters are real."

She licked her lips before she uttered what was probably going to be the silliest thing she'd ever said. "You're actually the Doctor, then."

He shook his head. "No. Well, yes. Sort of. I was, but I'm not now." Cocking her fists on her hips, Catherine stared at him with sarcastic disgust. If he wasn't the Doctor, he certainly was sounding like him. He begged for a moment of patience with two upright forefingers. "It's a very long story. What can I say that won't make me sound like a complete lunatic? Think of all the crazy stuff that Russell and the others wrote for us. The reality is far weirder. Apparently, I was the Doctor, truly, but made human, but then..." Shaking his head, he gazed at the the ceiling while his tongue traced the edge of his upper teeth. "This sounds ridiculous even to myself, and I lived through it. The Doctor - the future Doctor, the one that looks like Matt Smith, not the one that looks like me - he created a new body for me and transplanted me into it, so that the Doctor - my Doctor this time - could return."

Catherine blinked. She opened her mouth to say something, then snapped it shut again with a pop. Inhaling through her nose, she closed her eyes for a long moment, then popped them open again to stare at David. " _What?_ "

"Okay. Okay. Never mind the details. Just understand that I was the Doctor, but I'm not anymore. I'm just David now."

She grasped her forehead. "David, this doesn't make sense at all."

"No, it doesn't, but what I'm saying is the truth.” His soft voice was utterly serious. “I went to an alternate universe, where the show is real and the Doctor exists. It's all real, and everything that's appeared on the show has happened there. And that's where I'm going, when I'm done here."

"It's everything you've ever wanted, then. You're going to live your dream."

He ran a hand through his hair before responding. "No. No, I'm not. I was already living my dream, on the stage and in front of the camera, creating characters and telling stories. And then the TARDIS came and swept me up, woke me up from it. I love the show, always have, but I haven't wanted that since I got old enough to tell the difference between fantasy and reality. And it's not a good reality. That universe is scary and dangerous. I only spent a few weeks there, and in that time, I was attacked by a Dalek, mind-raped by aliens, and..." Bowing his head, he turned away from her as he spoke. "And I had to choose between killing a good friend or letting other people die. It was horrible."

Donna frowned, her expression a blend of horror and concern for him. "But you're going back there."

Crossing his arms, he scrubbed down his jaw with a hand. "Yes. I don't have a choice. I only came back because I wanted to finish this job."

Catherine stepped up to him and squeezed his arm. "But you do have a choice. You have a life - a family, a home, friends, a career - right here. Why would you leave all that and go somewhere you obviously don't want to be?"

"It's because I don't belong here. Not anymore. There's one last thing you don't know, Catherine." He paused to catch her gaze and look directly into her eyes. "I'm not human. I was, before all this happened, but I'm not anymore."

Barking out a laugh, she gaped at him. "What? No, that's absurd. Of course, you're..." Her words trailed off as she caught the sincerity in his eyes. If she was able to accept all of the other absurd assertions he had made, why shouldn't she accept this one? She gulped. "What are you then, if you're not human?"

"Time Lord, sort of. Technically Gallifreyan with the extra physical traits of a Time Lord, but I don't have the training or the knowledge to qualify for that name. Something like Georgia's character Jenny."

"So you have the two-heart thing going on, then."

"Yes. You can check, if you like." Pulling back his sleeve to expose his wrist, he held his arm out to her. 

She shivered with a sudden urge to not get anywhere near her friend, but held her position. "Er, no, thanks, I don't need to check." As she looked him over again, trying to find any detail that would distinguish an alien David from the human David she knew, a scene from one of her episodes flashed through her mind. In a small voice, she murmured, "This means you can see the future."

David grimaced. He'd obviously been hoping she wouldn't make that connection. "Not like you're thinking. I can't see the future, what's going to happen tomorrow. I understand time. I can see time like you can see a river before you. I can see how it flows, how things might go, how they might not go, how they went, how they might have gone but didn't."

"That's what you see right now?" He nodded, and Catherine shook her head. "I never understood what that line of yours meant, and I still don't. Doesn't matter." She chewed on her thumb. "You can do that mind-meld thing, too, then?"

He nodded. "It's called touch telepathy." 

This time, her reflexive response was to stumble back a couple of steps, as if afraid he was going to touch her, and she immediately apologised. "Oh! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."

"It's okay. I understand. I wouldn't want to touch me either." He gave her a reassuring smile. "It's not just a touch, really. I'd have to concentrate. Really try."

"Oh." She didn't really understand; science fiction had never been an interest of hers, so the concept of mind-reading was not relatable. "And..." Her breath stuttered as she inhaled. "And I guess this means you're going to regenerate when you die. Go all glowy and yellow and turn into someone else. Matt Smith, I suppose."

"No. That's one thing I won't be able to do. I can't regenerate. But I am going to live a long time." His eyes glistened. "If nothing untoward happens, over a thousand years."

His despair at being alienated from everything and everyone he'd ever known and knowing he would outlive all of his friends, past and future, radiated from him, washing over her. Her knees buckled beneath her, and she stumbled over to the sofa, dropping onto it. "Over a thousand years. Bloody hell." She scrubbed over her face with both hands. "Oh god." She knew she was just rambling to break the silence. "I can't believe this. How can this all really exist? It's just a show. We made it all up, didn't we?" Her head snapped up. "Does that mean all of the other characters exist there, too?"

David bit his lip and hesitated before replying. He knew what she was thinking. "Yes. It does."

"So there's a Donna."

"Yes."

The colour drained from her face. "There's an actual woman who went through all of that horrible stuff."

David turned toward the wall and breathed heavily into his hands. "Yes, there was," he whispered.

"A woman who looks exactly like me," she continued to mumble. Without daring to look at him, she whispered, "Have you met her?"

A heavy silence hung in the air before he replied. "Just once, just for a moment. She didn't... It was after she lost her memories, so there wasn't... it wasn't..." He couldn't continue.

Catherine chewed on her lip as she tried to imagine this woman, whom she played on a television programme, actually existing. A thought occurred to her, and pursing her lips, she wondered out loud, "Does that mean there are universes out there for all the stories we tell? Is there a Lauren Cooper somewhere?"

David turned back, aghast. "Oh, please, no. I don't know, but I really hope not. One impossible universe is already more than I can handle."

Catherine plopped back against the couch. "So, that's it, then. You're going to get in that TARDIS and fly away forever."

"Yup. Like an execution. Last meal, last request, and I'm gone."

"Oh." She picked at a fingernail. "I had thought you were going to finish the episode. What should I tell them? Or should I keep mum and be surprised like everyone else?"

"Oh!" David ran a hand through his hair. "No, the filming's done. It's hard to remember; I'm not used to this yet." He quirked an embarrassed grin at her. "I wanted to finish filming all the episodes I was contracted for. I'm all done with that now and came back to this night for this. To me, I invited you to dinner months ago. Then I went and spent the night at a hotel in Bristol, so I wouldn't meet myself." He shrugged. "You'll see me at the studio tomorrow, and you'll throw me a sad little smile, and I won't know how to react, but I'll wink back at you." He stared at his shoes. "It's better this way. People will realise I'm gone in a few months, well after the last day of filming, and since you'll have seen me months before, they won't connect you with my disappearance."

Catherine stared at him, chewing her lip and finally uttering the only thing she could think to say. "Blimey."

He stepped over and gestured at the empty space on the couch. "Is it okay if I...?"

"Hm?" She glanced at the seat. "Oh yeah. Go ahead."

He sat on the far end of the couch, taking care to not allow his long limbs to encroach on her space. "Thanks. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable. Long streak of alien nothing next to you."

"No, it's okay. I'm okay with it. You don't look... I mean, you still seem... You're still the same, to me. Oh!" Her eyes widened with understanding. "Your eyes! That's why they're different!"

"Sort of, yes. My eyes glow, just a tiny bit. More when I lose control. It would have been a problem with the filming, but the Doctor made me some coloured contact lenses that make my eyes look normal. Of course, I'm not wearing them now." He shrugged. "But the eyes, that's not a Time Lord thing. That's a side effect of, well, of something that's really hard to explain and not at all important." 

He sat staring at his hands folded in his lap, looking lost. Catherine scooched over next to him and took his hand in hers, curling her warm fingers around his icy ones. He jerked at the contact, surprised that she was willing to touch him at all. "You really are still the same to me, you know. At the script reading, you still had that excitement, that passion that's just so you."

"That was an act. Showing off my skills, I suppose. Time Lords don't have passion."

"The Doctor is passionate."

"The Doctor has never been a good Time Lord."

"No. Not even you can fake what I saw." She squeezed his hand. "I can't imagine what it's like for you, on set and pretending when you know it's all real, but you're still happiest there, playing your character and telling your stories. Maybe you're not physically human anymore, but you're still you, and that's who you are. You can't hide that."

His first genuine smile in a while broke his gloom. "I do love it. I thought... When I came back to start filming again, I thought it would feel so fake, so pointless. I mean, you've seen the console chamber. The room is whole, with no cameras and mics and lights. I've stood on the threshold of that box, looking out into space, not just at a green screen. And playing the Doctor, the man I actually was! I thought it would feel like a farce. But I got the first script in my hand and I studied it, and it just blossomed in my mind. I can't describe it. I know it's a true story and maybe that makes me want to tell it even more."

Closing his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "The terrible part, though, is knowing how it's going to end. He doesn't know, of course, and I can't tell him, but it breaks my hearts every time I look at the script. He deserves so much better."

The plural word "hearts" dropped another rock into the pit of Catherine's stomach, but she forced herself to ignore it and pay attention to what he said. Both hands clapped to her mouth as the horror hit her. "Oh god! It's all real for you, isn't it? The planet's going to appear in the sky, and everyone's going to turn into John, and the Doctor's going to die for Bernard, isn't he?"

"Yes. And he's going to doom the Time Lords to death again."

"But you know what's going to happen! You can change it. Tell him!" She thought back to the events they covered in the initial script reading. "That first part. Tell him to go right to Earth and stop that scene between John and Alexandra."

David regarded her with a steady gaze. His sorrow was gone, replaced by an almost icy detachment. "I can't do that. I don't know that I just wouldn't make things worse, and I can't let him know his own future. That's one of the Laws of Time and I can't break it."

"Not even to save his life and the planet, and prevent him from having to kill his own people again?"

"No, not even for that."

She frowned. "This isn't like you, David. You wouldn't put some bloody law above everyone and everything else."

"That's who I am now. I can feel it, you know, in my head. When I think about questions like that, I can feel my human gut instinct warring with the Time Lord logic and responsibility." He squeezed her hand. "Understand this. At the most basic level, the Laws of Time were established because tinkering with time in certain ways could damage the universe irreparably. It's worth far more than the life of a single man, or even the suffering of an entire planet."

Catherine shook her head. "I can't imagine that."

"But I can. I can see the consequences of such an action very clearly. I want to help him. I really do. But I can't, not like that. But!" And a wide smile spread across his face. "I know how I can help him, in another way. And I have you to thank for it."

"Me? What did I say?"

"Nothing. I said it, actually, but I wouldn't have thought of it if it hadn't been for you." He rubbed his hands together with a shade of his normal earnestness. "The Doctor's promised to train me for a while, so that I can learn who I am now. And, in fact, these months I've been working on the last two episodes, I've been spending my evenings studying." He pointed at a stack of books on a side table. "The Doctor says my Gallifreyan is getting rather good. But," and he held up a finger, his eyes twinkling, "he should have another student, one that he truly wants aboard the TARDIS."

Catherine cocked her head at him in surprise. "I'm sure he likes you well enough, David."

"Maybe." He shrugged. "No way to tell. He's never been one to say what he really thinks. He feels responsible for my situation, to be sure. But this one, he wants. I know he does. It's someone he doesn't know about, but I do, because television programmes show more than just what's happening to the main character."

"Who is it?"

David grinned at her with a mischievous wink. "You'll find out, when I tell him. You'd like to meet him, wouldn't you?"

Smothering her mouth with one hand, Catherine blinked at him as she thought. "Yeah. Yeah, I suppose I would. I can't pass that up. But it's gonna be weird. One question, though."

"Of course. What is it?"

"Why me?"

"Eh?"

She cocked her head, puzzled. "Why did you choose to tell me about all of this? I mean, we're good friends and we work together like a dream, but you've got family who are going to miss you, and friends who are closer. If there was anyone I'd think you'd want to share this with, it'd be Barrowman."'

"Because..." David breathed in deep before he continued. "All I really wanted was to get to say goodbye to someone who would know where I went and knew I didn't want to go. Frankly, my family would have gotten too emotional and I couldn't deal with that. Well, I did go back to visit my mum, before she passed away." He bit his lip before he continued. "I was in the middle of filming and couldn't get away to see her as often as I'd hoped, but I got this one last chance. I've been so lucky: who ever gets to go back and make things right?" He smiled sadly. "Anyway, I thought about telling John, but you know, anyone like him would get that dreamy look in their eyes as they realised it was all real. But not you. You're my good friend, but you're not invested in the fiction. You just listened to everything I told you without excitement or jealousy. And you appreciate how difficult this is for me." 

He turned to her and took both her warm hands in his. "Catherine, please remember me. That's all I want. Someone to remember who I was, and who I became, and where I went. People are going to be shocked when I disappear, and then I'll become just a curiosity, this actor who vanished mysteriously. I want you to be the one who will remember me as a real person."

"Of course, David. I will always remember you." She leaned over and hugged him tightly, sniffling as her eyes filled with tears. He held her close and buried his face in her hair.

When they finally broke apart, he squeezed her hand again. "Thank you. It's not going to be all bad, you know. Just different. I'm sure I'll find a place for myself, something that I want to do and be."

It suddenly all clicked in her mind. "You're going to be just like the Doctor, aren't you?"

He smiled, and though a faint blush tinged his cheeks, his eyes shone gold. "It's a tempting thought. Travel the universe, meet all sort of aliens, do some good, save some lives. You know, do something meaningful with this chance I've been given." He shrugged. "Nah. I don't think I can do that. I'd probably just get myself killed, the first time I step out of the TARDIS. I'll find something to do, make myself useful."

Catherine shook her head. "I think you'll make a brilliant Doctor, David." She patted him smartly on the knee. "Come on. Introduce me to the real thing. This evening can't get any more surreal than it already is."

"All right." Standing up, he offered her a hand to help her up, which she took with a smile.

"You're not going to dress like him, are you?"

David smirked. "I have not yet felt any compulsion to limit my wardrobe to one or two styles, or to make questionable fashion choices. I did, however, get to keep the brown suit and the coat from the set, and whilst I did bring them with me, I don't plan to actually wear them."

She wagged an admonishing finger at him. "Good, because that's really where I draw the line. Start wearing an overly-long scarf and I'll have you committed on the spot."

"Oh, now, see, you're not familiar with the other Doctors. Question marks as a decorative motif, Panama hats, and Inverness capes. I could easily get a lot worse." He ushered her to the TARDIS and welcomed her in with a gallant gesture. "He said he'd be in the arboretum."

"Oh, bloody hell," Catherine murmured as she peered around the console chamber for the second time that evening. Just the one room was too much to take in, and now David was saying they'd need to venture further in. Her friend took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze, and, with a slightly braver smile, she nodded her readiness to meet the real Doctor.

. _ . _ . _ . _ .

Dashing down the sheet-metal hallway, the woman was grinning broadly even as she calculated just how likely it was that the soldiers would catch her. They really only needed to get within ten feet for their stunners to be effective and she was probably foolish to count on their plastiflect armour to weigh them down and make it harder for them to navigate the narrow corridors compared to her own unencumbered agility. She'd gotten the crew of the cargo ship safely into the escape pod and she didn't have far to go to get to her own shuttle - that tiny little ship that had been her home for so long now - but she needed to detour to sabotage the ship’s targeting computer so that they wouldn't get shot down as they fled. Though she chanted under her breath for enough time to do that, she also reveled in the adrenaline flowing through her, and she just loved all the running.

This wasn't really what she expected when she first set out on her journey. She'd had so many grand plans, and it's true, she had so far gotten to see many new worlds. But saving civilisations? She'd done nothing on that sort of scale. She'd travelled from one world to another, in the simple line her shuttle could travel, and helped out where she could. Mostly small, mundane things. Perhaps the most ambitious thing she did was help bring two sides of a bitter war to the negotiating table by adding an alien's perspective to the conflict, but that had been between two clans, nothing near the size of even a small city. It didn't matter, though. She would have plenty of time to learn and grow and accomplish all the things she wanted to do.

She hopped down a ladder to the lower level into the snaky hallways of the engine and mechanics compartments and ran off. She had a superior spatial memory and headed straight for the room that housed the computer mainframe even though she'd only been there once before. Rounding a corner, she sprinted into the chamber that housed the cooling systems and nearly fell over her own feet with surprise as the blast door smashed down closed behind her. She whirled when a placid voice sounded off to her right, to see a man sitting at a console, turning dials and pushing buttons.

"They're quite far behind you. I closed the security doors on corridor seven-lambda-one, and it seems that they never set the password on that system, so now it's a phrase from a Proclaimers song. An obscure one, at that. And now this door is locked. I don't know what the rest of these controls do," he mused as he continued to spin and toggle them. "I hope they're not important."

Despite the strange accent, she recognized that voice at once. "Dad?"

Spinning in his seat to face her, the man certainly looked like the Doctor and she started to run to him, but he held up a hand. "Nope, I'm not 'Dad'. He should be along any minute. I'm David. Pleasure to meet you, Jenny."

She came up short, bewildered. "How -? I mean, who -? Why -?"

He cut her off. "No time. Right now, think of me as a sort of brother. It's too complicated and it's close enough. As far as why, suffice it to say that the Doctor didn't know you were still alive until about two hours ago, and he rushed right off to find you." His eyes sparkled golden. "He was wondering if you would like to travel with us for a while."

"Would I?" She hopped up and down in place. "Yes! Oh, please, yes! Let's go! Oh, but we've got to disable the targeting system first -"

"Already done." The Doctor jogged in through the other door carrying a tangle of wires in one hand. "They had the targeting console deadlocked. However, they also had two other things: one, a shared casing with the navigational system, which _wasn't_ deadlocked, and two, a crowbar." He held up the wires in his hand. "This seemed like the most expedient solution."

"Dad!" 

Jenny leapt at the Doctor, catching him in a bear hug and hanging off his shoulders. He encircled her with his long arms, the biggest smile David had ever seen on that face - either the Doctor's or his own playing the Doctor - peeking out from over her shoulder. The actor leaned back in his chair, hiding an affectionate grin of his own behind a hand.

"Jenny," breathed the Doctor. He set her back down on her feet, then beckoned at the two of them. "Come on. We've got things to do."

"Civilisations to rescue, creatures to defeat!" chanted Jenny with bright enthusiasm.

"And somewhere, the tea's getting cold," added David as he pushed himself to his feet. 

The Doctor spun with an expression of both amazement and nostalgia. With a breathy "Brilliant!" he saluted David with one finger. 

Grasping the Doctor's hand, Jenny offered her other to David, who took it gladly, and as one, the three Gallifreyans dashed into the corridor toward their blue home.


End file.
